The Cause Poem by Bill Cantrell

Another day at work
Gone are my precious friends
Images that will follow my nightmares,
oh how many times shall I slaughter them again?
Maybe this is a reoccurring dream?
Either way, I know blood will continue to spill,
Dream or not, my sword and armor has served me well
If I only could remember the cause I was fighting for?
I felt rhythm in my sword
As I look down, I cannot see one blade of grass,
Only a sea of blood with man and beast pinned to the ground
The castle gates have not been breached, I guess we won?
The smell of death is always the same, intestines pierced,
Burnt flesh hot oil and pitch, always the same
If I could only remember the cause?
Oh well I'm sure it must be a good one