Like a storm cloud is he
His anger like thunder
His roar resounds in battle
Scaring many asunder
His rage red as blood
As that which flows from the dead
His vision fixed on his enemies
Themselves filled with dread
He slashes with sword
Cutting a swathe like grass
Many a head does roll
And other body parts
His fury beyond control
Lost in it is he
He’ll not stop
Until his people are free
His sword raised high
Ready for the kill
But something stops him
Inside he is still
He sees his victim
A child of twelve summer’s
Cowering in fear
With a few others
He stays his sword
Sheathing it away
He’ll take no woman or child
Not ever in his days
He walks away
Drained is he
The battle taken its toll
Blood is all he sees
What price freedom?
Why must this be?
Why can’t people get on?
And live a life carefree?
He shakes his head sadly
His heart heavy this day
A waste of life he thinks
All pawns in a game eternally played
Posted on Jul 29, 2014
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