Battlefield of the Broken

We marched into battle,

The leader on saddle.

His sword was raised,

A hoard was faced.

Swords clashed and swords clanged,

Blood sprayed and blood poured.

I heard the cry of men,

I felt the whisp of wind.

Leaves fell to the ground,

Swords rose up and sparked.

The hoard was too many,

The army too determined.

The leader's horse was down,

Morale faught to stay up.

The hoard closed in,

The army fought out.

Leader on leader,

Sword on sword.

The hoard stepped back,

Their leader fell forward.

The were gone in a flash,

We were their in a jiff.

Our cries to yells,

Our swords raised high.

Leader on his knees,

I knelt down to help.

He handed me his sword,

Said "The battle now lost."

Held his hand til the last,

Sighed now alas.

Stood with a crunch,

The snow now a bunch.

Turned to my men,

No one in sight.

Looked down at my leader,

A skeleton in snow.

A few feet away,

A skull looked my way.

I gazed the battlefield,

I sank their and sobbed.

Corpses upon corpses,

Piled and piled.

Swords were rusted,

Bones had crumbled.

The battle long over,

But the pain still remains.