The stain

In the tranquil wild meadow

Flowers in serenity bloomed,

Here in the tranquil meadow

Trouble was about to brew,

In the distance could be heard

The thunder of a hindered hooves,

Ready to fight for the country and truth,

The riders charged with swords raised

Trampling the wild meadow along the way,

Then along came the enemy on foot and they bayed

Many thousands of them appeared that day,

Then there was a crunch as they impacted

And you could hear roars and screams,

And their blood flowed through the meadow like a crimson stream,

For more than half a day the fighting carried on

Drowning out the sound of the beautiful bird song,

Hate and violence filled the air and the tortured sounds of death

By the end of the battle too few were left,

The horsemen had against odds managed to win

But only five of them were left standing,

Four were normal warriors but one was their king,

And he regained his mount and began viewing

The death and the carnage that lay about in his vision,

The king was satisfied he had succeeded at his mission,

But the reality is that humanity perished here

Amongst the blood, death and the fear,

And the once beautiful, tranquil meadow that resided here

Was now scarred with blood, death and tears,

In time it would recover but the memories will remain

Upon beautiful nature man once again left a stain.

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