Grey Battle Poem by Scarlett Charlotte

A figure standing, lonely, waiting,
As the drum beats, harsh and grating,
War drums of a heartless nation
Dragged through sky to wracked starvation,
Soldiers dressed for fight and turmoil
Kick up droves of dampened top soil,
A swollen belly, harsh and eerie,
Lids are swollen, tears are weary,
This great battle fought for eons,
Like the jeering growls of dragons,
In their grottos, hiding, biding,
In the open air they're fighting.
And all this turmoil dragged alone
Through the skin into the bone
Of one who stands so cold, so windswept,
Gazing on the sky she once kept,
Brilliant music paints the sky line
Beats so strummed they draw the bass line,
A painting only hearts and ears see,
Art by God, if ever paint he.
The battle of the cloudy soldiers,
Gloom and glittered free form boulders,
Wails, cries, Oh, will they hurt us?
Wars of Gods do not concern us.