From The Dark Horizon

An acrostic poetry contest entry.

From The Dark Horizon

First comes the sound
rolling over the hills -
out from mouths and up from the ground.
Men's hearts grow weak.
Then, comes the feeling -
humming, chanting, in the air.
Every step a beat -
drumming, strumming, thrumming - in the air.
And, finally, the sight,
reeling the senses -
knocking knees and faint hearts.
Here, at last, they come.
Our men stand bravely.
Risk of death is worth the price
in the hope they may prevail.
Zen brings us together.
Our few, against the army
now on the dark horizon.