Conflict

Sun sets on a pleasant day.

A morbid foreshadow,

of the event that will follow,

on the night courage fades away.

Both sides are terrified,

of facing the other,

with friends versus brother,

on the battle no one dare cried.

The pale moon gleams,

on armor and blades,

as humanity fades,

with one's melancholy dreams.

The battles commences,

both passionate fighters,

until lines draw in tighter,

and both have lowered defenses.

Neither remember why,

the conflict arose.

All that they know,

is that the other must die.

The final fight,

leaves both in discord,

and the final drawn sword

is just to prove might.

Only two remain,

yet neither will cede,

from the disastrous deed,

and the last has nothing to gain.

Finally, the sun appears,

and it shines on the tolls

of unfortunate souls,

who wallowed in habitual fears.