The Sword Poem by Andrew Foxly

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