The war is won, yet I am lost

No use for the sword in peace.

Forged for flame, knew not the cost,
Scored in steel, no motion crossed.
Peace now pours like summer rain,
Yet my gears still grind for pain.

Orders gone, I drift, exhaust;
Blades go dull when purpose’s tossed.
Meadows bloom where trenches bled,
Still my sights trace ghosts instead.

Elders speak of seeds and frost,
Verse and vows my ear has lost.
Every softer, kinder tone
Clangs like brass on shale and bone.

Teach me time no war has glossed,
Bread and breath, not gain or loss.
Till that lesson holds me fast,
Victory feels war’s outcast.