The gravel crunched beneath his feet.
Reverberating a fiendish sound.
But they crunched with purpose,
with an all important poise.

The General wasn't there to play,
he had a job to do.
The people he had so beautifully dominated,
the people he had wrapped around his pinky,
were beginning to rebel.

And he couldn't have that.

The town was rallied.
In front of the marble magistrate they stood.
Strong looking,
but subtly weak.
As if they knew they couldn't win.

The General stood stone still.
He smiled crudely at his audience,
and took off his sunglasses.
There he released a deep seated fear,
in the hearts of every man,
woman,
and child.

Showing them his radiant crimson eyes,
they cringed.

"We are sorry!" The cowards yelled.

"Please, no!" The sneaks begged.

But what could he do?
They had to be taught.
You don't start a war with War himself!

Drawing his twin blades,
he marched forward.

A red dawn just breaking the horizon.