Songs Of Psalmist (What Is My Purpose)

CHAPTER 26 (Maker & Someone)

After circumventing the tight crowd, the hooded legionnaire continues to act like an assassin by busting out a willy one liner, "Dear me, I have a message from him for you," snappily the legionnaire blare shortly before lashing out its blade and scourging the vile grotesquely obese trooper in the belly.

"Oh dear, you should really cut down on that fat intake of yours!" the legionnaire shoehorns, "Looks like it takes guts being all lordly!"

As the hooded legionnaire bids its farewell, it seems that it hasn't forgotten its manners by considerately giving the obese an apple...

From a distance, another warrior was taunting another, "Would you want me to come to you as a friend or as a foe?"

The inquiry was answered by a giant hammer stretching towards that warrior squeezing its whole corpse which then briefly replied, "Neither," hinting the warrior that it need not to come at all. Then it continued its rampage of squashing everyone on its path, that it's as if everything it looks at are nails...

A soldier was wailing on a hapless chap when a figure from above, clothed like a shadow, drops down behind that soldier. It sneaks, walking with a cat-like poise, and snaps the soldier's neck with one savage twist, taking its head in its hands. As the lifeless body slumps to the ground, fallen on its knees, the figure cleans its hands and quips, "Well, looks like someone bit off more than he could pew."...

Another fighter sidestepped and started shanking three battalions with its scythe, six at a time. After it had its fill, the fighter then took a deep breath and shouted, "Hear ye! For you'll all be known. For all psalmists and bards will sing my song!"

But a spike hit its sides, and the fighter gasps with babbling blood. The spike-man then blurb, "If only you all had one neck that I had my spikes on it, like my barbecue in the morning!"...

Every abled body were fighting on both sides. All sorts of battle cries can be heard.

"Raise the war cry, you hands and feet, and be shattered!" a cry was heard from the cavalries behind the pawns, "Listen, all you distant warriors. Prepare for battle, and be shattered! Prepare for battle, and be shattered!"

Then that speaker turned towards their adversaries, while pointing its sword at them, and shouted, "Devise your strategy, but it will be thwarted; propose your plan, but it will not stand, for he is with us!" And they made the assault with a trumpet call!

"For his glory!" they charge into battle, scraping their weapons on stones to create showers of sparks!

When the cavalries blew the trumpets and broke the pitchers, they held the torches in their left hands and the trumpets in their right hands for blowing, and cried, "My sword for him!"...

We could see fire in different direction, with burning debris around it. From behind those darkest smokes gushing through, fiery arrows rain above the partakers, burning their facade and defenses.

We could also see some knight-like figures slashing their blood soaked swords from fighter to fighter with foams of gores all over the ground...

We couldn't even recognize who's side is who. For the blood-lust were in eye to eye, that neither the armors nor shields nor their emblems gives a diddly clue.

It was a war! A war! That took place oh so suddenly, that there was no time for rumors of it. A war born from a mutilating mutiny. A mutiny born from a piquing pride. A pride born with gluttony for glory...

A war of His Messengers... Messengers that has such uniqueness and diversities in characteristics and entrusted abilities.

The fiery ones stood above Maker, each having six wings; with two covering its face, and with two covering its feet, and with two it flew.