Great battlements rose by the Syrian sea,
Acre they’ll talk for centuries of thee,
On that fateful day on the fifteenth of May,
When Al-Ashraf Kalil, it’s people did slay.
The Caliph his father as if by God’s hand,
Lay dead by the walls, in the whispering sand.
Kalil, laid siege with his army so great,
Templars and populace awaited their fate.
Some, but only a very few
To escape by sea, lots they drew
The panic was great, fear of Kalil renowned
And old and young in the sea they drowned.
The Templars fought like lions deranged,
From dawn to dusk, but nothing changed.
Now Kalil to them, no quarter gave,
Not a single soul, that day they’d save.
The son of the Caliph now breached the wall,
Then blood ran free in St. Andrew’s Hall.
The last bastion of the Crusaders fell,
The sight of carnage, was a scene from hell.
Young and old, he spared not one,
Dark smoke covered the rising sun.
The great doors of St. Andrew he carried away,
To adorn the tomb, where his brother lay.
The last battle of Knights Templar was fought on that day.
And in Europe the church kneeled humbly to pray.
-by Masterblaster
Sad
Too sad :/