Militant Onslaught

The galloping statue roars crag-like
Desperately preserving its dead ancients.

Whirling heat lashes out its fired, forked tongue,
Dripping molten saliva,
Singeing the steed's stationary snout.

The crackling, victorious laughter
Silences their voice to ashes.
Onward it marches to flickering drumroll:
A fearsome army driven by the impetuous winds.

The sensation of buckling knees.
The cessation of forward movement.
The slash of mind-wrenching despair
Immediately before savage consumption.
Black boundaries rise from the Roman muck.
Smirking obsidian faces reflect searing bloodlust
And are deaf to inhuman yelps.

From the sodden sidelines
The hoarse firestarter cheers on his creation
Chiseled features lit in the cascading twilight.