…To Become a Battle Cry…
Tiny bundled kitten
Swinging over road
Mewling for his mother
And escape from cold.
Lean muscled apprentice
Chasing down the moor
Forgotten are the dark days
Of hunger and forlorn.
Bloody ginger body
Splayed across the earth
Death for no good reason
But for sadistic mirth.
Pain-filled cry of battle
A mother for her son
A name that cries for justice
And honor to be won.
