casey28

I don't know where the idea for this one came from. Sometimes it feels like a poem writes itself, and I just sit back and watch.

Battle, Battle

Battle, battle, dipped in red,
sew your seams in bloody thread,
skin will shrink on withered hands,
soon to reach the dying lands.

Battle, battle, dipped in brown,
break the stars and bring them down,
crumbled legs are broken clay,
earth will swallow up its prey.

Battle, battle, dipped in black,
take your wails of anguish back.
silence soon the bitter foe,
bury them before you go.

poem by me