Civil War - Poem by Joseph Cross
Two armies stand silent.
The commanders do not stir,
No order is given,
Yet all are ready to die.
Bow strings drawn taut,
And arrows at the ready,
Swords gleaming in the sun,
All are useless,
Without the ones who wield them.
No birds call, no horses stamp.
All is silence across the field.
Neither commander makes a move.
One hand slips, the arrow flies,
Arcing high, getting lost in the bright sun,
Then falling to meet its target.
One commander falls.
The two ticking time bombs collide,
Bloodlust growing amongst their hearts.
Swords ringing, arrows flying,
Lives ending, all in vain,
Until none is left but one.
The other commander curses loudly,
Feeling hot tears fall,
As he looks down on his only brother,
The first to die in this battle cold.
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