Havasu

In Havasu, many years ago,
The West and Atenveldt went to war.
London Bridge the prize they sought,
That drew them there two hundred strong.

Hot the sun of Havasu:
The brassy sky bore only dust
Sucked up from the stony ground.
Wooden armor, locked in the car, caught fire.

So armorless, I found myself
One of three marshalls for fifty fighters.
Enough for one big brawl, we thought,
But the gods of war deemed otherwise.

For the Western knights upheld their center,
While the Aten knights deployed on the flanks.
When the two lines met, they broke in three:
Each marshall got his own fierce battle.

Western knights and Caid fighters
Hammered Aten chivalry.
But Sol Invictus smote both sides
With merciless equality.

Roasting in their carpet armor,
More fighters fell than ever were struck.
Plate and mail glowed with heat,
And one brave warrior almost died.

So drink your fill of life-giving water,
Deep as the light of your lovers' eyes.
Remember: whoever claims the field today,
The Sun is always the victor here.

—Calafia
April 14, 2001 A.D.
a.d. XVIII Kal. Maiis, 2754 A.U.C.