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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 07, 2008

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Submitted: January 07, 2008




There they stand with swords in wait,
Their armour burnished bright.
A breeze is blowing,
The earth is still,
Soon it will be filled with corpses.

They start to move, a thousand marching,
The darkened earth shakes below them.
Left, Right,
Just yards apart,
They break into a frantic run.

Clash, rip, thunderous yelling,
As iron meets flesh and bone.
Blood is flowing,
Fires burn,
The Battlefield is full of chaos.

Bodies falling every moment,
Soon there's nothing of the armies.
But a few,
The bloody few,
They still will stand and keep on fighting.

The setting sun casts a shadow
On the earth that's stained with blood.
Iron shards,
Broken bodies,
Is all that is left remaining.

A few fighters have survived,
Standing still, they face each other.
Former foes,
New comrades,
Theycollapse down and weep with sorrow.

Soon darkness comes and hides the field
Where a hundred thousand gave their lives.
For no just cause,
For no real reason,
The Battlefield was filled with corpses.

And no one left the Battlefield
Because the fighters who survived,
Saw the carnage,
All the dead,
So slit their throats and joined their comrades.

So day came, and the sun rose shining
The Battlefield was full of light.
And all was quiet,
All was still.
The armies had found peace at last.

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