Standing amidst the stench
Of the one thousand dead men
That he had heaped on the bloody ground
The warrior, clad in his unyielding armor
And brandishing a razor sharp sword,
Thumped his chest and laughed at the world.
He knew he was destined to rule,
He knew no one would dare to cross his path.
He was the master of every shadow
That challenged to cast itself in his land.
The warrior with the silver helmet,
Gleamed with self delight…
Out of nowhere, came flying down
The kites and the eagles
To enjoy their feast;
They ripped and cleaved and spit and chopped
As the great warrior, with his mighty steed,
Watched in horror, the song of the dead!
There lay scattered a thousand souls,
A thousand smiles and millions of hopes;
Women widowed and children orphaned,
Hope and happiness of families abandoned.
Bodies punctured and life taken apart,
Thanks to the warrior with the red shawl.
The birds flew away, their business finished,
The skeletons remained for the dogs to devour,
The rest of the mortal sins covered and buried;
All this the warrior watched from his fortress strong and tall;
The warrior proud, the fearless one
Comprehend his fate, covered in dread.
The armor clattered, the sword fell down;
The mount galloped away seeing his master’s head bowed;
Wiping away the tears of pain in his shawl,
The fortress came crashing down and with it the momentary hero.
The warrior who felled thousands lay fallen,
His roots shaken by the fear of death!