Battlefield

A Poem by Dilu

That battle, which is pointless, but still fought with vehmence,... the battle which repeats itself over and over again through the ages

BATTLE FIELD

The corpses lay splattered

All of them saying

Wordlessly, a story

Of their sufferings

Eagles came devouring the corpse

And went back satisfied as there

Stomach is filled with remains

Of brave young men

And there were wingless eagles

In the form of wicked man

Stealing all those things

They find valuable

Oh and that brave youth

Who have all the goodness

Lay there still and silent

Soul departed

His love, the young beautiful

Women who suffer

Much more than she

Should and could

She sat there weeping

Far away from beloved

Unable to go to him

Because of that evil man

Oh, the evil, her father

Stood gazing, murder

Blazing in his eyes, thinking

He got everything.

He thought he got everything

But unknown, he lost everything

All the goodness in him.

Now he is a devil, a full beast