‘Twas the Last Night of Peace

‘Twas the last night of peace,

Before chaos reigned.

The town was silent,

The sky a murky black in conformance.

The guards stood watchful,

Protecting the precious inside.

The inhabitants of the tower switched shifts.

The tired went back to their rooms,

And the awake stood vigilant.

This was their life.

Dedicated to protecting the almighty inside.

The almighty that gave them life, hope and inspiration.

Without it they were nothing.

Without the cause for them to protect,

They would be nothing.

Up the winding stairs,

And into the turret.

Perched on a small, round table,

In the centre of the room,

Lay a chest.

Locked shut with four sentries around it.

Three layers of security.

What for?

A small chest.

One could only begin to imagine the wonders inside.

But no one could ever believe it.

Who would?

So much protection for a vital yet small thing.

Suddenly the chest burst open.

Hell descended.

The sentries scaterred,

The inhabitants immediately fled,

The gaurds gave up their posts and ran.

The chest had opened!

And when one peered inside,

There lay,

A beating heart.



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