And we descendUpon the patchwork scene belowBackpack thrusters filling the airWith poetic fire While the gibbous hordesMock and tease and gesturePunctuating the dark withErstwhile curses and lamentations And unholy gunfireFor when we arrive We will cleanse this clotted landUntil this dark born heresy is no moreBolters and flamers to purifyIn the name of our emperorRecliningContinue reading “Space Marines. A poem.”