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The Sand Hunters

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The Sand Hunter's were created long ago,

Where did they go nobody does know,

In there caverns what goes on is secret,

And so many died trying to discover it,

They killed the Kha like farm animals,

The Kha struck back with dwarven catapults

The Uruk saw the Sand Hunter's strength,

And helped them out for quite a length,

The war was won but at what cost,

For too many lives had been lost,

And resources were strung out low,

So they found a land that they had to go,

Athera became the home,

Of the Sand Hunter's who wrote this poem.

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In the windy bliss,

long the stones endured,

the sundered bridge to Neverland,
by God it is absurd,

to evolve or bypass,

the progression of our third,

we will endure the wrath,

of the Sand Hunters
 

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The sand Hunter's wrath,

Cannot be surpassed,

For they follow the holy three,

They fight for honor,

They fight for the thrill,

Sometimes they fight for the kill,

Neither beast nor

man,

Who has survived and ran,

Will avoid the deadly Sand Hunter's.

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Some say that they have fallen,
as they descend the hallowed stones since then,

the depths of scourge withheld,

from the withered hunters clutches,

the prey is elusive and fleeing,

strong as a bear, 

withered as a lion,

cloaked in darkness,

the very foe which flames doth destroy,

the very foe for which aurum penetrates the spine,

to erect a monument for the fallen,

who did engage a dying quest,

withheld from honors,

withheld from rest
 

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The Sand Hunter's still stand strong,

For the holy three fight along,

They do not kill without reason,

And do not accept any treason,

Some found a Kha one late night,

And the hunters attacked with no insight,

They viewed the Kha as animals,

And so they caused many troubles,

Until a war devasted the land,

But was won with a holy hand,

But still they had little remaining,

So they sent some troops scavenging,

They found Athera and were amused,

For there were many Kha to abuse,

They thought of them as honourable game,

And slaughtered them all the same,

But the bigger the prey,

The more honour would be brought to stay,

So they hunted these cats,

That were no better then rug mats.

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Lynch a kha in the evening,

lynch a darkie in the day,

without either dead at the day's end,

what can a man say,

that he let a kha and a darkie live to play,

or that he killed them and ended the plague?

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Unfair executions are not their way,

But they would hunt a cat any day,

Just because a ball of fur,

Can walk and talk you can't assure,

They aren't just intelligent prey,

So they are hunted and taken away,

They get no trial,

And they only live for a while,

But a Kha is a cat at the end of the day

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truck bannana train

Amen, my brother in the eyes of God. 

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Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

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