Battle ready, armor polished
Sword is drawn
Fury pulsing through his veins
Rage courses through his body
War
Ready to charge, to sink his mighty blade into the weak flesh of an opponent
Yet she comes right before he can,
that inoppurtune moment
Coy smile like a nypmh
Waving olive leaves 'neath his nose
A small giggle as she flits about,
Asks him would he rather not play and enjoy Peace?
When all war does is give way to his loathsome child
Strife
Golden hair rises from her head Like a halo, and ribbonss tream
Her dove feather cloak flutters in the breeze
Such stark contrast to his blood red cape
With each step she calms the heat
War sinks back and watches as she comes close, steps away as she approaches
Roses bloom in her cheeks as Peace looks up
He raises his sheild, not to ward of spears and blades
But to push back the fleet footed maiden
He looks at her aghast and tries to walk past
He looks down with serious eyes, enough games
It's time to fight
Yet a charm she casts
Eyebrow raised he scoops her up with a salacious smile that hold promises for another time
And pushes her to the side so that He may fight for his victory
They dance with each other, Neither one ever conquering
Only gaining advantage
A lovers dance
A passionate game
Push and pull
War and Peace forever intwined