A War Not Won
A misty wind on a warm, bright day, A lush green meadow, and a bright blue bay, The red glazy sun behind the icy cold clouds, The mistletoe grown on the dead men's shrouds. The day after war, about to bring peace and calm, Some soldiers dead, some with blood on their palm, The so called winners, to celebrate their win, Slaughtered the weak and had a grin The families of the dead grieved with sorrow, The people feared for their family's tomorrow, The King however had a princely feast, "To win" he cheered and drank as a beast. Peace wasn't restored to those who survived, Calm were the souls who had fought and died, Neither did win in this battle of pride, The thousand deaths were the loss of the sides.