[A poem is published in hasty fashion. Bereft of the usual typeface and pamphlet, it is handwritten, and tacked up upon the common boards.]
In Service to the Well
Or, the March
Acolyte Amelie Terrois of the Sisterhood of the Sibylline Vine
Illul 30, IY 7787
The Foeman's yonder drumbeat calls;
It echoes, sounding, ancient halls;
And reaches Wellspring, light of life;
Upon us bringing war and strife.
The sib'lant menace marches through;
A storm of ash, not to eschew;
To vile sight, magnificent;
Their purpose here: the innocent.
And other reaches of the sands;
Afeared now shirk from war's demands;
But none shall stand as we do here;
We've come afar and rally near.
So now does Wyld's fierce decree;
Command us all alike to be;
Adherent to our glor'us cause;
For sounding cry, our foe takes pause.
So up thy sword and riven shield;
The gathered foe's upon the field;
To answer well in errantry;
And write thy name to history.
That Life, preserved, in all the Well.