there I stood on an ancient battlefield
where two forgotton armies onced clashed
and thought how many died by way of sword slash
how pointless is war how much blood spilled for what sake
as i walked across this place of war
i noticed a sword lying down in the grass
its handle inlaid with garnets and brass
its blade a razor of tempered steel
the sword beckoned for war when i called for peace
but its flame was so hot i could not withstand
so i took it and did battle across the land
from diplomat to soldier from treaty to sword
i have burned the olive branch
now i walk from land to land
forever holding the sword in hand
bearing the quiver for the arrows of war
ashes is what is now left of the world
burned by the sworlds white hot flame
but the world knows i am to blame
just as all men are who carry the sword
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem