When the end does come.(Short poem/story.)

Based on many British Mytho-legendardy ideas, have fun guessing what.

When the Sailor's drum falls silent.

As the powder kegs that did fall before them.

The lines of soldier, slapped hand to hide.

When the Birds vanishes into night.

As the metal beasts that has flown before them.

The towers of carcasses, that it leaves behind.

When the Knight rose from earth.

As the concrete houses that had hidden before them.

The burial mounds rise, from wars long fought.

When the Ancient Rocks glow bright.

As the mushroomed sky that has radiated before them.

The wind draws near, from sites once here.

When the British Waves rise up.

As the tides turned like those dogs before them.

The last Jack waves, forever does Rule Britannia.

For Britannia Rules The Waves.

And so now the end has come, and it is time for these Great Isles to swallow themselves back to the sea from whence it once came. For none shall conquer these Isles, though war nor peace, fear nor hope, famine nor trade. These isles that stand here today, on the edge of the Abyss, formed neigh thousand years ago. On the fateful Hastings field, from axe or eye, this final land was formed. Like a single flicker of flame, its power spread to engulf the world and surround the sun, so that it may never set. But now the end is here, with a Jack waving from the mast, and the bow deep set. These great things, from Celtic Knight to Trafalgar Sailor, to Ancient Henge to Raven's Tower. Now rise together, to do this one last thing. By mighty drum and sword of steel, we cast thee back, from this land of little lack. We cast thee out, of this Isle. As the water crashed and the land swelled, so too did the lands cut out of this world. The air thick as the rains ensued, and rivers burst and the Isle sank beneath the Azure Main. And there was never more, this great nation, to which controls the waves.

Yeah this is me being proud so feel free to laugh and/or critises.