Curtains spreading with the rising of the sun.
Boots and hooves entering the stage to perform the devil’s harvest.
Rumbles from stubborn tanks mixing with the hum of helicopters.
The whisper of swords out of sheaths.
A groan as wood is bent.
The clicking language of guns.
The computerized fluorescence of the instruments of war.
The slash of shimmering swords cutting the air,
Quietness of arrows flying.
Sightless bullets driving forward.
Stillness of bombs falling from the azure heavens.
Exhale of mechanical terrors.
The devil silencing the doubts of god in men.
The instant of peace.
A thunderous attack piercing the sky.
The orchestra of war echoing from era to era.
The first descent of a lifeless note.
The andante tempo of a hundred deaths a minute.
A discord of flailing limbs, swords, and shields.
Dull thunks as ambitious arrows find their targets.
Staccato of a death by a single shot.
The glissando rattling of machine-guns.
The bass of bombs exploding.
A requiem for the pains and deaths.
Nocturne sights of sadness and the elegance of the reaper’s sickle.
A crescendo as the combat reaches its climax.
The fortissimo turning point.
A decrescendo as the winners are revealed.
Final pulsation of the last sword swing.
Resonance of the concluding shot.
Quake of the ending explosion.
The final vibratos as the choruses of war conclude in many eons.
Setting of the sun revealing a bloodstained sky.
Broken hopes fall as they begin to rise.
Lucifer leaves as the lost souls of the harvest follow him to his throne of darkness.
God’s sadness as darkness conceals the price of war.