The Vanguard

 A valley littered with bones

Scattered upon the earth like piled stones

Grinning skulls and sun-bleached backs

Wind whistling in empty chests, ribs full of cracks

From the blow of sword and mace

The remnants of a long forgotten race

Left to rot in the fields

With shattered spears and splintered shields

Who were they? Who so long ago

Fought to the last against the merciless foe

That left them dead where they lay 

Food for ravens and beasts of prey

Wolves lapped up their blood and flesh

The worms and flies devoured the rest

Leaving only skeletons behind 

The only thing left to remind;

The world that they fought and died there

Now only empty sockets stare

At the sky over the field of slaughter

Where wind and snow, sun and water

Wore away the rest 

Not maille or standard nor helm with painted crest 

Survived the weathering of years

None remain to over them shed tears

Valiant men once strong and bold

Now only bones withering in the mould