The Watcher

the dark brown cloaked warden stands on his lofty perch

waiting, watching, whispering

to those who swing the swords

senseless slaughter plagues the land

the last guardian warns of the burning shadow

a blight that will consume every last breath

yet on believes in the upkeep of

purity, polish, and pride

slayers of the secular

the other believes in the sanctity if

home, honor, and hatred

brutes of bloodlust

each equally corrupt and justified

ignorant, indulgent, insane

the plea falls on numb ears

and the watcher can't escape his name