A Destiny Wrought in Infamy (an Ill Empire Cannot Stand)

Few'd have guessed such quaint allegiance,

side by side Roman and Goth

Once cruel foes, now bound as brethren

Such the twist their fate has wrought

A Destiny Emblazoned

Now unravels near its end

Perched upon the hills of Chalons

Aetius' troops prepare for war

Their number pales next to the splendour

Of Caesar's Proud legions of yore

Few they seem

Against their foe

- horsemen counting

thousands strong-

Neath the banner

of Attila,

gathers fierce

and mighty throng

Hordes of Franks

ride with the steppesmen

Rending havoc

Throughout Gaul

"The Scourge of God",

A wolf Amok

Makes a feast

On poor sheep's souls

Rome's sweetmeats

Ripe for the taking

(an ill Empire

Cannot stand)

Twixt such fate

Stood strong Aetius

Of Rome's Dead Kin

The finest man

Last seed of a nation's Splendour

whose stones stood on fratricide,

Aetius Thwarts Rome's foreseen Ruin

Driving off [the] Barbarian tide

The Huns charge uphill

Deep into roman ranks

The Gothic Allies

Flail deep Attila's flanks

Fate smiles to Rome

The field is theirs this day

The battle turned

The Huns driven away

Such carnage wrought

On the field rot man and horse

Among those to mourn

Lies Theoderic's shattered corpse

To the old gods

Prayed Aetius

(for such a grace

renewed his faith)

By his hand

an Empire saved

-at least reprieved-

of grim fate

But such is rome

fhat an emperor

quite less grateful

than one'd think

Paid his deed

With a stabwound

Thus in infamy

Rome would sink

As throughout its history

Rome ate its own kin.

As their last spark of Honor

Fell neath grievous sin

Their destiny emblazoned

Now moves towards its end:

From the East countless hordes

Upon Rome Descend...