These days are short but oh so heavy.
Forming orderly lines won’t fix a thing.
Bodies strewn across these battlefields.
Lives cut short by stupid kings.
Yet here we stand on the edge of a knife.
Blood-soaked hands won’t fix this bite.
As winds howl and determination frays.
Say goodbye and welcome these Valkyries.
On swollen wings they claim us each.
One by one we are taken from this beach.
Pale in the face with eyes of glass.
All that we did was but a farce.
Exhaustion is the name of what our battle claimants feel.
Forever they are working in circumstances quite surreal.
To take the worthy to where they belong.
For these deeds there will never be enough song.
Powerless as they fade and falter.
Blame them not for our horrors are what batters.
These good deeds until it is dust.
No longer will this world know trust.
Bartered to coin by chief crook shadows.
Too cowardly to face our bone made gallows.
Sanctioned for hubris that tore Valkyries from skies.
Events that left them with dead blackened eyes.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 