A night to come.

Under the same moon we go, both friend and foe alike. With skies of stars or winds and cloud, we matter not to the heavens above.

But friends will toil upon the world to build a world anew, as foes conspire inside and out to take and tear asunder.

It has been a generation or two since last war was at our door, convinced we were near one and all that reasons for had died.

But we know their names, we know them all those who conspire against. And underneath the very same moon, a world will be made anew.

For the heavens themselves will be eclipsed by our rage, our hate, once shunned will return. For that hatred has come from the defiling of love for our kindred, our folk and our home.

And those that conspire within and without will be given an end they deserve. For the acts which they take and deny to this day have been seen countless times before.

They will not escape the fate they have made which they hold at arms length at the door. Some know and flee in silence already but they have bought not a life, but a day.