The Great Standard

You see a flag in shreds, fluttering in the wind,
Torn to pieces, like their army once disciplined.
You see a cumbersome pole, too heavy, too long.
A burden. An honor you would refuse headlong.
You see the tides turning against them under the sea
Of your countless men. Let me tell you what I see.
I see fire in their eyes, singing their hearts out.
They call to the skies, a cry from their soul, a shout
To the gods, to the power above: "Till daybreak!"
And again they raise their shields, wood and metal wrecks.
And again they come crashing, waves unrelenting.
Then comes dawn. I see men rise up, bloodied and panting.
I see a beacon piercing through the veil of smoke,
A bright bird of light perched at the crown of an oak.
I see a faint spark ignite and spread like wildfire.
I see hope turn whisper into roaring thunder.
I see men's heart and drums beating in unison.
I don't see a flag: I see victory, my son.

Above was the basis for this painting. Multiple interpretation possible, but what I had in mind was an army showing up at dawn to turn the tides of a lost battle.
Done for my portfolio in Paintstorm, in about 15h. I streamed it from start to finish here for those interested: www.twitch.tv/meteorart

I hope you enjoy, and see you on stream.</span>