The echo of stomping boots filled the air, as men rushed forward with ordered discipline

Trends of great machines cut into the earth as they bellowed great roars

Two forces meet on a desolate grey plain, that smelt of sulfur

One rushes to overwhelm, the men fire then move back

A single metal volley cuts through the air

The first line of rushers fell, only to be crushed under claw and foot by their brothers

They hit, the lines of men before another shot boomed into the air

Coarse claws, rendered through flesh like a knife through hot butter

blood filled mouths, as they vomited an iron taste away

Their final screaming dirges, bubbled off from the backs of their throats

Sweat moves down their brows as they fire upon their enemies and doomed brothers

A rhythmic booming comes from a distance, the meaning is unknown for a moment

Then fire washes over all of them, the heat charring the skin

All this comes from a single click

A click of a mouse


(Yes this is an Imagist poem inspired by RTS games)

(for any one interesting in my story Trials of the Witch Hunter, I am continuing I just kind lost inspiration but I am writing again. I hope you will do with this for now)

(please do all the relative things to show any like or dislike of my poem)