thousandfold

sprinkled by the trappings, of words that make the outlines, blur on the showplace that made history, the folk is willed, to parrot the dished up tale, the lure of a higher meaning, cheat, you had to create, an enemy stereotype, to retrieve your absolution, a forthy poor excuse for your foray, to disengage from the deeps, of your encumbrance, behold, all our gold, thousandfold, bereave me!, declined, truths ensign, forever mine!, bereave me!, march in with ten legions, whilst the crucial weapon's not he pillum, but the feather held in your hand, penned in blood, your tall tales rule the forum, altering it into the battlefield, i, the spectral guise, evoking these baring fears, pestering your conscript fathers, i smile at my demise and while i die, i cherish the roots of my perseverance