My warhorse and I.

chadwick

In stone I am written, past, present, and future.
Dwelling in blood, I am the living stench of battle.
With axe in hand, my destiny conquers all that dare stand before my warhorse.
Bringing darkness up from lungs, my steeds breathing runs down souls.
Climbing mounds of heavy death, my answers are understood by the fallen.
Judgment from my axe, brings down a might swift sentence.
This horse of war, my wings, takes me across crumbling skies.
Into realms far and wide, my domains tongue speaks of pain and suffering.
From beyond seas, up mountain peeks, and into the stars, my thrown rules the centuries.