...The Crows... They say, That when, Two factions fight, The winner Can only Be seen at first light, But I think That nobody Ever really knows, I guess That's why, We should ask the crows... The sword it swung with the greatest of ease, The general he dropped fell to his knees, As his heart slowed down, Muscles eased his frown, His sight growing dim on all that he'd lost, He'd urged them keep fighting whatever the cost, And the cost was steep, Dead men piled around some places ten deep, The general looked up and right before his eyes, The clouds they did part revealing heavens sky's, He let out one final everlong breath, And with his face turned he welcomed his death... The Myrmidon stood with bodies surround, The stench of death the only smell and sound, His sword stained with the blood of men, He had killed twenty but times that by ten, The blood dripped down into the earth, It's soil to cleanse in a rebirth, The war a Maelstrom a cacophony battle cry, Of sword clash and gasp as so many they did die, The enemy tried against the bane of foes, Or maybe that's just how the victors story goes, For who is the real winner in a terrible bloody war, Who will be left standing when death marches to the door... Whether the winner is life or death, I guess it's however the story goes, The only ones that see beyond the sword, Are the Massive Murder of Crows... Art by the amazing @AiTrying if you don't follow him you should! #poetry #AI #art #ai