His Favored Tool

Poem about war and death and destruction

A sunlit scourge across the plains

The men advance, menace in their plans

Weaponry glistens from ‘neath the rays

Of a scorching star that seems to foretell

The gruesome end and deeds most fell

Enemies across the field

Align and face the others, one side in fear

The other in triumph,

Their victory is sure

The battle has yet to be joined

Upon the prophesied proving ground

When, in roaring agony, the fight is begun

Only one opponent will have won

The right to remain upon the globe

The others sent to shallow graves

A road to hell the reaper paves

Grinning in his savage delight

Death is laughing his face alight

And pulls the vanquished beneath the ground

Their tragic end a reminder now

That war is His most favored tool

Reviews

[Great Aunt Astri]

Yes, I'm not sure which is worse, the face to face fighting of old or the faceless warfare of today. Old Mr Death must be beaming all over his face! Good read.

[Lykeios]

A question I've pondered over the years too! Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the poem!