Death Valley
The army of black and red collided with the army of white and blue. Lances, swords, arrows, axes, and bullets met when the first column of soldiers rammed into each other. From the top of the valley, archers and snipers hailed arrows down on each other, occasionally scoring a kill. Lances countered a surprise attack launched by swordsmen, axes broke the lances like splinters, and the swords jammed into the wielder of the axes. Thunder and fire rained form the skies. Wind blew in horrible typhoons. Chaos engulfed the valley the two armies bloodied.
Once again blood comes to the sky,
Once again someone will die,
Today it will be me,
Or will it be he?
The armies continued to strike against each other. More smoke embraced the pool of death and bodies piled on over each other. A javelin speared a man through the heard and arrows plugged up a mage leaking magic. A wave of wind knocked men off their feet and soldiers piled on the fallen men, stabbing and thrusting at the soon to be corpses. Knights fell off their horses and into the horde of clawing men. A throwing axe found the back of one of the commanding knights.
Is it my time?
Will I continue to rhyme?
What waits for me afterwards?
Can I be dead?
The pikes pushed men back and shields deflected the hail. Rain plattered down and made the valley floor like soup, a soup of blood, bone, and rain. Bodies fall, plopping like dolls, buried in the mud, leaving no name or kin to speak of. The storm rages on as godly thunder strikes down a group of soldiers. Fire sizzled and sparked the miniature meteorites collided with bodies and set them a blazing in the cold air. Cannons fired and entire units were flung sky high, utterly destroyed. Death snacks on the soldiers as if he was a small child in a room full of candy.
Once again blood rains from the sky,
Once again, people will die,
Today it is I,
Tomorrow it is I.
Alone when dying,
Together, when dead.