My Poetry 2
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Here's another poem.
Two kings sit inside their tents, pouring over maps.
Inspecting the armor and adjusting the straps.
They know a war is coming, but how and when they don't.
Neither plans to yield, for he knows the other won't.
They ride along the line, inspecting their men and steeds.
Rattling off last minute orders and decrees.
They look toward each other, not 500 feet away.
The men stand ready, eager, to leap into the fray.
The men ready their weapons, knowing some will die this day.
In a clatter of boots and hooves, the battle is underway.