Warhammer poetry

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Garviel Loken, a captain of the 63rd,
Was most notably remembered to be a man of his word.

When Istvaan III happened, he could not believe his eyes,
For brother fought brother, under an ash-ridden sky.

But when Loken saw Abbadon, a soldier he called friend,
It had broken his heart, to know that this was the end.

Through wreckage and debris, they had all finally met,
With Tarvitz and Aximand, the original four set.

When Aximand had drawn blade, eyes filled with tears.
Tarvitz had reminded him, to not hold back with fear.

And no matter what happens, no matter the conclusion,
They will fight till the end, with blades sparking in fusion.

But orders were orders, and they had to be done.
For Horus had an agenda, and a war that needed to be won.

With a Heresy so great, so powerful beyond measure.
It had made other legions decide between loyalist or traitor.

As the world collapsed around him, Loken thought of the remembrancers.
However human and fragile, they will bring word to the Emperor.

And although he was beaten, he did what he should.
Loken had stood, when no one else could.