The Enemy

Thatched roofs ablaze
Our emblem banners snapping amidst the billowing black
The fields of life turned into the fields of flames
Our duty was served

You monsters! You monsters!

Bloody bodies danced from the branches
As they twirled in the breeze
The defenders of their homes
They were worth no ransom, no benefit to our king

You monsters! You monsters!

Small children wandering aimlessly among ashy roads
Screaming for a mother, a father, a hand
Innocent, voiceless, left abandoned, orphaned, and dead
For this we will be dubbed heroes

You monsters! You monsters!

Women in the streets bawling,
“You monsters!”
Silenced quickly with flashing grey
For they shame out honor

Moans of agony and pain
The screams and cries of innocents
Steel and bloody death indifferent
For these were the declared enemies of the king

The farmer.
The weaver.
The smith.
All the enemy

The wife.
The husband
The laughing child
All the enemy, and we were performing our duty.





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