The Ancient Battle

The red beating of the heart and soul

Amidst the green, green meadows

Brings the warriors to battle–strong, determined, whole

Lurking in the early morn as mere hints of living shadows

Whispers of unheard footsteps gliding o’er wet fields of dew

Startled breaths gasped in hollowed throats

Then soldiers’ war cries on the clearing air flew

Scrambling from long-ships and skimming wee boats

Approach the shores of doom

The aftermath a blazing fire in the sun rays hiding the gloom