A Storm in the Steppes

"Madness makes a man, and it is what breaks him..."

There he stood, the gold of George in mouth,
"What's the next realm I will travel to?", he asked inwards,
As the shots fired and his body sank south,
And of the medal with the dragon slayer were just left shards.

Might was right where he fought and dived into floods of guts,
Slaughtering whomever zeitgeist thrusts over world's edge,
Barbaric, but with love for freedom; there was no match,
As he learned: Even on the way to Naraka are no shortcuts.

Born with noble blood, a troublemaker from his early days,
In military academys and under Nippons suns rays,
The touch of older deities remodeled the soul of the young scholar,
Though he will incarnate one himself as his name grows taller.

The mystics of ancient powers he followed,
Riding down his enemies to establish the old order.
Furtive chattering soon will have him swallowed,
For another land, but not his own he drew a new border.

-Marcel Strehlau

Editors note: I was very pleasantly surprised to see a poem about Roman von Ungern-Sternberg. A remarkable figure with a fascinating life. He was a Baron and an anti-communist general who restored the Bogd-Khan to the throne of Mongolia during the Russian Civil War. Marcel recommends this short video for those interested: https://youtu.be/bNUq7IUU300 and if you are interested in reading more he recommends “The Bloody Baron” by James Palmer