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Oh how we now weep over the pity of by gone days, but we were once men. Here we lie now, decaying like a festering word spoken out loud in an inappropriate place. Yes we were once loved by many, and now we struggle to be remembered by just a few; stumbling across our ideal as they search for themselves. Alas I cannot complain for I have seen, heard, touched and tasted life, though I have yet to pick up the sweet smell of victory. But my being is brave, there is no denying that, when the single tear that eternally now rolls from my cheek oozes with the smell of justice, yet I have no knowledge of a battle's end. My short battle came to an end upon a misty morn, and for what? For a man who gave all away to the nemesis for a few silver plated coppers and a scrap of swamp, yet he showed just the same greed for blood on the field that day. Oh how the mighty doth fall... to themselves they are both victim and victor, but we had no time for any of that for though we now lay rotting in the gravely ground, WE were once men. |
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