A poem that tells the story of a battle. |
As I walk amidst the dew I think of a moonlit night, In a world that was new, Under stars that were bright. I was young too And strong as the sea I thought I knew what to do; All that would be. The morning held promise; Hope anew, All were reflected In dawn's cool dew. Icy fog hung over the grass, And a voice sang of some bonny lass Who waited at home by lamplight and sun, For her love to return when war was done. The light was still dim, The fire still warm, I couldn't sea the cloud That brought forth the storm. I put on my armor And queenly livery. And I mused on the honor That would come with victory. When we rode on to battle I held my head straight a tall To let my men share my courage And to find their own gall. In the north, the sky was grey, But the sun was already in the south, And I believed we would steal the day From my enemies' evil mouth. When we stood on the hill And stared at the valley below, All was silent and still; Entranced by a hideous show. There were fifty-thousand strong: All held spears, all had a sword. A hateful, massive throng, An insidious, loathsome throng. But our cause was right, Our path was just, Surely, by night, They would lie in the dust. I knew little of death And nothing of life: Not the sacredness of breath, Nor the fickleness of might. I resolved to end it, Then and there: To make a land of peace, For me and my heirs. Nobly, I took up my golden shield. Proudly, I held my sword high And led my troops to a bloody field Where all of them would die. |