I once moved empires without a sword, crossed oceans in a wooden horde. A pinch of me can wake the tongue, old wars were fought when I was young.

Around the rugged rod The wheel does spin Transferring great energies Built from within. Quite similar to The planetary rotating point. Of WWII Under one name, forces joint.

Divine be the beast, tombed amongst kings and queens. A stealth driven feast: predeceases a clean. Its blades are recessed until they feel the need, a slit for sight, helps hunting at night, if it fits then it sits, yes indeed.

A ring of water, guarding the castle, Protecting the throne, be it lord or vassal. A liquid hug around old towers, Keeping enemies at bay for hours.

Hippies signed me, doves deliver me, wars end when I arrive.