OneidaDreamer

Slither, through fields of muck;

the atoms won't mind.

Still the time for a piece of mind is past;

when your sword is heavy in your hand, the filth is clinging to all your person.

The sun shines bleakly for those who's fate is at the end of a blade or spear point;

Perhaps fate left in the night, with the gypsy caravans; she's a picky *****.

Tell tale sunset; paints a miasma of magentas and blood reds upon the battlefield.

Mixed with the smells of smoke and carnage; the carrion eaters are circling.

Many who fought went willingly, for their cause;

Who knows what the reasons were; only that they fought with all their hearts.

Honor,Valor, and Cunning were present, but there was more than a little bit of Back-Stabbing...