The Final Battle

The footsteps came at me, the beginning of a disaster;

My heart was on the verge of breaking going faster and faster.

I held my breath;

Awaiting Sir Death.

An ocean of fear came my way;

I was praying that today would not be my final day.

The people embraced each other, standing side by side;

All men carried courage no one ran to hide.

Upon the horizon I swear an Angel came;

It strode on a white steed, so gentle so tame.

Was this beautiful creature coming for me?

I blinked my eyelids to clearly see.

No, nobody stood before me…

Only the shadows of the brave men and cruelty.

Hark! The man beside me speaks;

He calls out to everyone, outward he seeks.

The words that he calls mark the beginning of a battle;

I hear a push, then a shove, then a great rattle.

Blood pours all over and drenches us deep;

All around me bodies reek.

Soon the battle had ended;

I suppose I should say ‘horary’

But god will cry for all the children he lost today.

Who won the battle? I hear them ask.

I say a battle can not be won;

But what’s done is done.

I weep over this poem for I have been wounded today;

Sir death is coming, but I will surrender not flee;

Soon god and my friends will be with me.