A WARRIOR'S LAMENT

A WARRIOR'S LAMENT


As the sun sets slowly
On the blood quenched earth,
The warrior stands alone
A dead youth at his feet.
His spirit flown on ravens wing
To fly above the battleground,
Lifeblood drained without pity
Encrusted on the killer blade.
Spirits soar amidst the carnage
And the warrior touches iron,
The rush of battle rage fades
And he looks to the sky.
Stars glisten on the velvet tableau
Visions appear to his battle weary eyes,
Iron birds scream through the air
Darts of flame racing from arched wing.
Strange fire breathing beasts do battle
Monstrous metal sea creatures in bellowing rage,
They thrash in the sea in a deadly  embrace
And the warrior stares in wonderment.
He walks slowly toward his victorious men
Iron clad killers of leather and fur,
Of sword and shield and spear
Or the wicked edge of a battleaxe.
Where they sit, with ale and mead in flow
Another army appears in silent march,
Lines of helmets and short sword
Arrayed all, the same dress of brown.
Somewhere a solitary horn calls
And the ghosts step out in line,
Rat a tat tat, they fall, one by one they fall
Yet still they march, to die for their cause.
The warrior feels their impotence and pain
He slashes his sword at the faceless enemy,
And sees the future, a world of pain awaits
Where wives and mothers live in abject fear.
He feels the stars quake as the heavens gout fog
An enormous sulfurous cloud billows endless in the night,
The wind, acrid and scorched holds a million screams
As children cry, their lives torn from their throats in terror.
A door opens, a portal into the night
He sees many people in strange striped attire standing,
A sweet smell drifts silently past his nose and they are gone
Naked and burned in heaps, countless dead, the warrior weeps.
He sees the future
A world of war and battle,
Of warriors dying and false glory
Never ending pain and suffering.
No winners
No losers,
Just death and misery.
Widows and orphans,
Disfigurement and displacement.
The warrior sees it all
The glory of slaughter rises like bile,
He shivers and looks at his sword
Its edge has sent many to the otherworld.
He wants no more....
No more death, no more destruction
He lays his sword and shield on the ground.
He walks past his men
A warrior no more,
He is man.
He disappears into the darkness
The warrior leaves forever.


Phil Hall  December 2013