the myriad of colours has lost its shine ..
all but a murky brown remains...
ever lurking an ever growing ..
the more they fight the stronger it gros..
like an infection it takes control of the warriors mind..
derails him from his task at hand.
his sword in hand feels heavier then ever before.
the darkness looms overhead ..
the infected act not by their own will but by the will of a greater power..
like pawns on a chess piece .. they march blindly ahead ...
the last man stand upon a pile of corpses that once was his brethren ...
brothers in arms ..fell one by one to temptation..
now it is his time to lay down arms and surrender...
for he has found the treasure they all speak of ..
the most renowned , most powerful emotion of them all
he removes his armour and charges towards what he knows to be certain death....
still he must go on ..
his body tells him to stop as does his mind .. but his heart just wont allow that ..
not now...
blessed be his footsteps as he faces his demons .. may he not be distracted from his battles ..
may the knight not fall under the spell of the mooon and may he survive this impending doom..
so the witches say .. so mote it be ....
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