The warrior danced down the line,
Slicing the foes in front of his,
Ripping them apart,
Leaving them lying on the ground.
Birds wheeled in the air.
Some coming down to feast on the dead
But most, still afraid of the warrior
Killing his way though an army
Stay back
The soldiers
Rooted to the ground
Watch as the vortex of blades
Moves along the line towards them
Cutting chopping
Mowing though the death around him
Seemingly oblivious to what he was doing.
A blank face with the same expression
No matter what it did
Soon the field was clear
Of living soldiers
But dead lay everywhere
Its work done, the warrior returns to its dwelling
To lie dreaming
Of years in the future
When it would reap another bloody harvest.
No comments:
Post a Comment