CUTHBERT - BATTLEFIELDS
This story is rated 2 stars (4 ratings).
Clouds roll across open field, remnants of battle wreak the air,
Glowing embers of fire, incendiary and death, envisage devils lair.
Cries of pain from those ethereal in their existence, echo the day,
Where once fields prospered crops, shattered warriors now lay.
The thunder rolled, like stampeding beast, across the plain,
And all that thought they would suppress death’s wrath, were slain.
Lights flashed upon the open battle, an unearthly sense of evil,
Seeking and hunting, the opportunity for a kill, awaiting its reveal.
Dour sense of elation, embraced those fortunate? to endure,
Then rain fell, as angels cleansed the earth and returned it to pure.
Now fields prosper and flowers grow, times passed and now past
But memory of that fateful time will always and forever, last.
We will not forget those who fought for our freedom, our stall,
And we will always honour those who fell, and sacrificed their all.
© Cuthbert 2011