PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sit in torment before the campfire,

Thoughts of tomorrow's battle weighing on me.

What fools men be when pride is at stake,

When it matters not, friend or enemy.

This battle I wage against my own neighbor.

One I've called friend many years.

He chose to ignore the King's decree,

Now his folly brings bloodshed and tears.

By my oath, I am bound to my sovereign lord.

I have pledged loyalty to country and king.

I have accepted both title and lands

And all obligations they bring.

Can he not see what he brings us to face?

His lands will run red on the morrow;

The melee brutal -yet swift, I pray-

Leaving behind all manner of sorrow.

I wonder, do my men sense my discomfort?

Do they know my insides churn?

Are they aware my thoughts war within me?

Before them, I must stand firm.

How dare that cur bring me here!

Removing me from family and lands.

Taking me from beside my wife

And from holding my daughter's small hand.

I pray the Father to give me strength

And wisdom for what I must do.

For with His Blessing on the side of right,

I know He will bring us through.

I beseech my Holy Father Above,

As the morning's sun begins to rise,

That my men and I will survive this day

And once more look into loved one's eyes.