A group of survivors, maliciously, fighting for their tenacious, cordial, authority.
In the hearts of many, this becomes an abstruse of pity.
The weeping of the troops, were so well conducted and full of discipline.
With the armor of the most dangerous men.
One by one they led their legion of many.
To an underground with nebulously mounted figures, belonging to the enemy.
A deep, dark hole, covered beauteously with a dishearted grin.
In this spiteful revenge of oneself, who cannot win.
They led the troops, on their way, and unitedly they worked as a team.
It was inconvienient for everyone, but every now and then, it's best to let out a little steam.
The devotion towards this clan is a toss up between attachment and detest.
They are the wickedest of the wicked, and the bestest of the best.
©terrylin53
T