the warning bells toll, the alarm bell screams, men are called to battle. the two armies meet in a meadow full of bright green grass, daffodils, and even some white roses. both sides stand, frozen in fear at the other sides numbers. the officers bark orders. the trance is broken, fear replaced by courage. both sides charge the other. swords clash, guns fire the air is thick with the smell of smoke and burning flesh, also with the calls of the dyeing. and yet the battle has just begun. the cannons arrive. adding their own chaos to the rest killing their enemies as often as their friends. still the fight drags on. the ground is soft, soaked by the blood of the hundreds killed, still, the fight drags on. the sun is setting staining the sky almost as red as the ground , the battle is ending (for tonight at least). both sides start counting the dead. the letters go out and the world is filled with mothers cry’s of pain and loss. the sun is rising. and the cycle starts again.