Hurt, delusions, tandem, fly
She expects it to hurt, and if death be her reward, in the afterlife she will join her kin, all notes in Melkor’s choir.
For well has she listened to his Lieutenant’s speeches; her heart knows with each rushing beat of black blood that the more painful her death in righteous battle against the Western enemy, the greater the portion of horsemeat and Noldor blood-wine she can expect at the eternal banquet table.
She rushes against the colonizers whose swords glowing blue - the mark of true evil (so diligently does she recall his Lieutenant’s lesson).
She follows her brother and sisters against them in tandem, and falls on their weapons. No matter, she thinks.
Her blood mingles with the others’, she closes her eyes.
She soon will fly to glory, in service of the true lord of Arda.
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