The Legion Poem by Kevin Maroney

The crow rattles the sky, and the birds chirp their melodies,
as the rolling clouds come to a centre point,
and the thunder cracks through a hopper's vision.

Under all, the battle roils, as steamy crimson rises,
the reason unkown, the ravens unconscious of purpose,
bulge from the dark festivities below.

The matron, dark as night, revels in chaos,
yet even she wonders how, without her sultry touch,
such discord rises from sane minds.

To kill or be killed, to die or to live,
to starve, to eat, to gorge and disembowel,
to die or live forever.

To think, to act, to know and not care,
to wonder, such wrack, till dusk we care.