Awaiting a Battle's Victory

Awaiting
The men sat in wait beyond the hill,
The outline of the enemy fortress
Just able to be seen.
Their candles flickered in the distance
Amongst the downpour of God’s tears
For the sorrow that was to come.
The night drew on,
The dark clouds passed over the castle.
Pale moonlight was finally allowed to fall.
With the rain gone, the men were left
Cold of body, and of heart.
Final pieces of armour were strapped in place,
Helmets lowered onto heads.
And as the shields were taken up,
Bearing the emblems of the families they fought for,
The trials they had endured for their king,
Silent prayers were sent out.
A banner was raised high
And the soldiers marched on beneath it,
The imposing rhythm of their steps
Reaching the castle long before them.
Men behind fortress walls grew alert.
Horns sounded on both sides,
Implements of war were put into place.
And when the banner crested o’er the hill,
The first arrow was released.

Battle
The castle walls were crumbling.
Agonizing cries of terror pierced the night
But trebuchets continued to bombard
The aged and failing stone.
Arrows rained down from atop the battlements,
Hands moving from quiver to bow
As fast as fear would allow.
Yet the men on the muddied ground continued
To advance upon the stronghold.
Gleaming swords held high, battle cries unfurled,
The metal of their armor clanging together
With every metered step.
The castle keep would fall.
But the men inside would not surrender to the masses
That raged on towards them.
The large, wooden door was lowered
Fathers, sons, brothers charged out,
Warriors all.
They would fight and die for their home.
The sharp ring of metal filled the air
As enemy swords collided.
Shield beat against shield.
Bodies fell and were trodden upon.
And as the battle raged on,
The ground became soaked with blood.

Victory
Silence.
Men marched, out of step
Away from the rising sun that cast the sodden ground
In shades of blood.
Heavy, blistered feet
Clad in boots of worn and faded leather,
Carried them back to a desolate camp.
There were no words.
Dried streams of tears
Cut through the grime of sweat and blood
That covered every warrior’s face.
Sore and dirty hands beneath marred gauntlets
Still gripped the hilts of bloodied blades.
Dented metal armor sat atop
Hunched and weary shoulders.
Dull, bloodshot eyes were unfocused
Down on the trodden earth beneath.
Wounds were left forgotten on bruised skins,
Gaining only the seldom grimace and endured.
Scars would forever remind them
Of what had transpired,
The pain running deeper than flesh.
It had been a long, cold night
But these victors moved towards an even darker day.