Once upon a battlefield dreary, where I cowered, spent and blearly,<br/>Within an Imperial bunker, darkly stained with dust and gore -<br/>As I cowered, nearly shuttering, suddenly there came a sputtering<br/>As some weapon quickly stuttering - firing at my bunker door.<br/>"'Tis some bolter", I murmmered, "firing at my bunker door -<br/>Only this and nothing more."<br/><br/>Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,<br/>And the brightly burning bastions lit the horizion by the score.<br/>Eagerly, on freedom drunker; - vainly had I sought to hunker<br/>In this heavy Imperial bunker - with perhaps a tunnel in the floor -<br/>A safe and empty fortress with perhaps a tiny tunnel in the floor -<br/>Only this and nothing more.<br/><br/>And the mad raving howling of each distant Space Wolf prowling<br/>Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.<br/>So that now, to the beating of my heart, I stood entreating<br/>"'Tis some Space Wolf there repeating, firing at my bunker door -<br/>Some common Grey Hunter rapid-firing at my bunker door -<br/>This it is and nothing more."<br/><br/>Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer<br/>"Marine," said I, "or Scout, your attention I implore;<br/>The bunker walls are thick - they are made of tempered brick<br/>And your bolters do not nick the slightest scratch or tiny score -<br/>Not a dimple, dent, depression, dip, scratch or tiny score -<br/>Away now, and fire no more."<br/><br/>Then in the bunker slumping, presently I heard a thumping<br/>A pounding - rattling many times fiercer than before.<br/>And soon I began to screech - the bunker wall grenades did breech;<br/>The very gods I did beseech as the ceiling fell upon the floor -<br/>Through the wounds poured streams of light which danced upon the floor -<br/>Danced amidst the sounds of war.<br/><br/>Then at once it stopped the violence - I was left alone with silence<br/>Confused, I spied the reason why the shells did drop no more -<br/>For as I began to shutter, then with many a flit and flutter<br/>A psyber-Raven flew through the clutter to perch above the door -<br/>Perched on the two-headed eagle just above the bunker door -<br/>Perched and sat and nothing more.<br/><br/>At this I grew more craven, for the talons of the psyber-Raven<br/>Were all over covered with bright red blood and crimson gore.<br/>"Wretch!" I cried, "Njal hath lent thee - into this fortress has he sent thee<br/>So that remotely here he may be - and this bunker then explore -<br/>Scry out my exact location and this bunker then explore -"<br/>Quoth the Raven, "Eversor"<br/><br/>Then, methought, the air grew darker, the bunker now a little starker<br/>For the uttered word brought terror as I had never felt before.<br/>As for weapons, I knew I had none - no bolter, sword or lasgun;<br/>No arms to stop the war's son fated to break soon through the door -<br/>The blood-mad crazed assassin fated to break soon through the door-<br/>Quoth the Raven, "Eversor"<br/><br/>"Be that word our sign of parting, machine or bird!" I shrieked, upstarting -<br/>"Get thee back into the fire-fight and here spy on me no more!<br/>For as you came unbidden - I would otherwise be here hidden -<br/>Leave my location in this midden - quit that icon above my door!<br/>Take thy shining metal eye, and take thy form from off my door!"<br/>Quoth the Raven, "Eversor"<br/><br/>And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting - still is sitting<br/>On the pallid two-headed eagle just above the bunker door;<br/>His metal eye has all the seeming of a psyker that is scheaming,<br/>To have my guts lie steaming in a pile upon the floor;<br/>And now all hope has left me, crouched here upon the floor<br/>I await the Eversor!