the wind whispers a name
but there's no one left to fight
all who stand upon the grounds
are cowering with fright.

this knight they trusted
truly is a fraud
he came with such boldness
upon a horse iron shod.

a battle merely started
yet seems already lost
blood spilt upon the ground
freshly covered with frost.

the nightmare will continue
'till the one prophesied
stumbles to this wayward place
and finds the strength to rise.

a country, fair in forests and hills
with pastures in the foreground.
peasants celebrate their happiness
and children play heedlessly.

over the dusty roads comes a rumble,
a cloud of dust appears on the horizon.
a troop of mounted knights march past,
on their way to some "honorable" war.

boys stop to watch the procession
wishing they were old enough to join.
worried mothers watch their older sons,
not wanting to see them go to death.

months pass and not a word of how it fares.
daily routines return to what they should be.
a lone rider hurries onward, never stopping.
ragged are his clothes, he brings word of dereat.

parents grieve, them prepare for the invader.
enemies are approaching for more spoils.
the war that forever rages across all countries
comes not to change this little hamlet.

gone is the pleasant cheerfulness,
the carefree days of silent contemplation.
not another ruler and harsh treatments,
high taxes to prove false loyalty.

they left no one to fight back,
no one to resist their evil treatment.
hope is just a memory of the past,
best saved for days clear of storms.

another fight for supremacy and land.
the destruction is high and many dead,
but the enemy has been driven out.
good has again reclaimed this town.

everyone at work to rebuild lost homes.
families tally the loss of beloved members,
yet still are able to celebrate this day.
they have won the battle in this round.

many wars are soon to come, however,
and more good friends will be lost,
but they're living on a daily scale.
let them have this brief happiness.

(c) Ruth Thompson.  All rights reserved.

soft
   warm
            comfortable
the velvet blackness
of evil slips through.
its seed of hate
goes unnoticed for now.

hunted
   afraid
            lonely
their dark need
overcomes goodness.
souls are twisted
for their desires.

trapped
   vengeful
             resolved
there's no where
to get away from it.
no more ground to loose,
the fight for humanity
              has begun.