HOME | DD

Description
A knight, sword held high,
A soldier, ammo tossed aside,
Convey their thoughts to one another
While each looks at each other.

Yellow daffodils, splashed with red,
Rest quietly In their beds,
A weeping willow soaks in the omnipotent rays
Of quixotic sunsets and dreary days.

Truth be known,
To each his own,
Fact and fiction both,
That each has lain quite utterly
An oath
In all entirety.

“No more bloodshed,” moans the knight.
Complains the soldier, “I wish to fight.”

To each his cause,
Most haste, no pause,
Death has come and death has gone
But nigh to stay for long.

The Knight fights for his kingdom,
The Soldier for his land,
And though each for his people,
Each daren’t lend a hand.

Buildings crumble,
Fighters stumble,
Over the dead and lost,
While lost men ponder,
Over and under,
Of war and loss and cost.

Crimson stains the ground
In many different hues.
Though few around,
Through muffled sound,
A temporary peace ensues.

Time moves on,
Its golden song
Sings forever more.
It’s ended war
Starts up again
Despite the efforts of the men.

A new Knight, a new Soldier,
A new Stranger to this picture
Enter and whisper
Vulgar lies that strain the pressure.

Fighting, fighting,
Glaring, dying,
Fleeing, waning,
Losing, winning.

When all is done
And one has won
A lukewarm peace ensues.
And yet the crimson,
Yes, the crimson,
Still comes in many hues…

Description
A knight, sword held high,
A soldier, ammo tossed aside,
Convey their thoughts to one another
While each looks at each other.

Yellow daffodils, splashed with red,
Rest quietly In their beds,
A weeping willow soaks in the omnipotent rays
Of quixotic sunsets and dreary days.

Truth be known,
To each his own,
Fact and fiction both,
That each has lain quite utterly
An oath
In all entirety.

“No more bloodshed,” moans the knight.
Complains the soldier, “I wish to fight.”

To each his cause,
Most haste, no pause,
Death has come and death has gone
But nigh to stay for long.

The Knight fights for his kingdom,
The Soldier for his land,
And though each for his people,
Each daren’t lend a hand.

Buildings crumble,
Fighters stumble,
Over the dead and lost,
While lost men ponder,
Over and under,
Of war and loss and cost.

Crimson stains the ground
In many different hues.
Though few around,
Through muffled sound,
A temporary peace ensues.

Time moves on,
Its golden song
Sings forever more.
It’s ended war
Starts up again
Despite the efforts of the men.

A new Knight, a new Soldier,
A new Stranger to this picture
Enter and whisper
Vulgar lies that strain the pressure.

Fighting, fighting,
Glaring, dying,
Fleeing, waning,
Losing, winning.

When all is done
And one has won
A lukewarm peace ensues.
And yet the crimson,
Yes, the crimson,
Still comes in many hues…