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)