The Battle

So, today the battle rages,
Once engaged we will not cease;
Will not slow or slide or slumber,
Nor accept a moment’s peace

Till our foes are down, defeated.
Endless words and endless strain
Spent to prove a point forgotten
Long ago, and long since vain

At the end, our pride seems foolish,
Righteous, we stand on the field:
There awash in empty silence
Petty fools
Who would not

2 thoughts on “The Battle

  1. Let us consider what is meant
    by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
    time for Truth to represent
    (as if such inconvenience mattered…)

    Such events disturb our sleep
    and force us to compose, on waking,
    poems to alert the sheep
    that predators are overtaking.

  2. Pingback: The Wordsmith | Knocked over by a feather

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