Sonnet Sunday’s: The Fall of Axtona

From the castle keep, Lord Dourka sits on his throne

Pondering all the horrors that he has been shown

His blue-gray bloodshot eyes locked in a morbid stare

Contemplating the fight with the sinister pair

The evil has entrenched itself within his brain

The demon whores look forward to the blood they drain

Dourka would not stand for their wicked corruption

His poor subjects became their choice of consumption

The once bountiful land, now a desolate field

The time has come for him to have sword and shield

Before the battle, he is unable to rest

With his armor on, he forsakes his father’s crest

Once again, the wicked ones try to make a deal

However, this time Dourka vowed they’d taste his steel

In the blink of an eye, they lunge with their right claw

Without hesitation, he grabs one by its jaw

Tossing one aside, he impales the other

But before the side, he swears he can see his brother

He tells himself that it’s impossible that he’s dead

Upon review, he sees there are thorns on his head

Dourka can’t believe, no matter how hard he tries

Something’s a miss; there are fires in his brother’s eyes

The other beast tries to force him back to the gates

With all of his might, his grand sword decapitates

The brother draws in, telling the tale of his soul

And how the devil demands that he take control

Dourka attempted reason, but swords came out

His brother charges him with a demonic shout

Metal upon metal, the great battle ensues

They both know exactly what it means if they lose

The demon brother’s strength had been increased tenfold

Dourka buckles as the end begins to unfold

In his last-ditch effort, he pulls out his dagger

Plunged into his brother’s heart, he starts to stagger

Dropping down to his knees, the demon is in shock

Life leaves once again, and down it goes like a rock

The king takes in everything that has been lost

Evil gone, it was worth it no matter the cost