The ploughed field by Joe Lyons


The ploughed field by Joe Lyons

A furrow dug deep turning earth from below

Revealing bones and metal from long ago

The bones still encrusted with soil and clay

Before the rain comes to wash the earth away

 

Remembering bygone days where valour stood the test

The strongest and wiliest would survive the best

The weaker unskilled fighters they would quickly fall

In time victors survey the vanquished, while standing tall

 

Months have passed now bones bleached by the sun

The field left fallow this season no work to be done

At night the bones turn into skeletons to fight once more

With no flesh to bleed bones fall back to the floor

 

At night these unknown warriors come to fight another battle

By the time the fighting’s over all you can hear is the bones rattle

Come morning they lay fallen to be warmed by the morning sun

In the full moon refreshed, once more the fight’s begun

 

Until these remains are collected and put under lock and key

A battle forever wages on each moonlit night if you could see

When the darkness of each night falls it pass as time before

Until collected and preserved the skeletons will fight no more

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