It is a bit long.
So this is something I wrote the other night. I know it needs work in
some places, or many places. Thats why I need your feed back. Keep in
mind this isn't something I take very seriously, I just wrote it on a
whim at 2:30am. So tell me seriously what you think, I won't be too
hurt.
The sun rose on armor and swords shone in morning light.
The battle lines were drawn, and sides taken for the fight.
Every man in the hoards knew why he was there.
Some came for the glory, some came from despair.
The army in black had their secret weapon,
among all their thousands stood but one women.
She was firm, stood her ground, she stepped down for no man.
She stood tall and beautiful, sword in her hand.
She was clever and quick, she had a snakes bight.
Her looks were angelic but her venom was quick,
and behind those clear eyes her heart was like ice.
She had no just cause, for her the battle was game.
She fought for her own glory, she fought for her name.
No man had yet to beat her, no army brought her down.
She was cheered in the courts, and adored by the crowned.
This was just another exercise to further raise her stature.
The fight would be quickly won, of this she was quite sure.
At once, the signal was give, the trumpets, they blared.
The soldiers moved forward, their dormant blood flared.
The woman fought calmly, she quickened not even her breath.
She moved quickly and surely, dealing out swift death.
Her movements were fluid, like the steps of a dance.
She swung, bobbed, and weaved without breaking the trance.
She batted not an eye, nor did she flinch.
She practiced no caution, her heart felt no fear.
She gave swift retribution while moving like a deer.
This battle raged on, for hours on end.
Many held their own, but some failed to defend.
In the teaming of numbers one could no longer tell
The heroes from cowards in this bloody hot hell.
Our lady fought calmly, she gave not a thought,
To the swiftly waining numbers that fell as she fought.
She viewed all as animals, cattle for slaughter.
No more threat to her that a farmer's young daughter.
In her calculating mind it never occurred,
There could be a ray of light among this herd.
He was younger than her and not much to see,
But he fought with his heart, and he fought for the free.
His heroic passion stirred him to fight.
Within, his love for country was an undying light.
Each time his sword brought death to another,
He mourned within for the loss of a brother.
The fray brought these two combaters nearer.
One with beating heart, one without fear.
What would soon occur neither could see.
They moved without knowledge of what soon would be.
At that very moment the sky parted ways.
The sun showed his face, and distributed his rays.
Upon the young man in his heroic stride,
The sun shone most brightly and remained at his side.
Above our cold woman, however, clouds remained.
From her all warmth and light was drained.
The prophecy of skies would soon be shown.
When the outcome of battle would come to be known.
Our man and our woman met on the field.
The fighting was furious, such blows they did wield.
But the inevitable happened as sword with body did mesh.
The cold bight of steel met the soft warmth of flesh.
The blood on the grass spelled our lady's fate.
Out spilled her life, out poured her hate.
She lay on the ground, her body was broken.
A curse from her lips was her last living token.
So often she fought, mortality her goal.
Now in battle churned earth rests her mortal soul.
The sun rose on armor and swords shone in morning light.
The battle lines were drawn, and sides taken for the fight.
Every man in the hoards knew why he was there.
Some came for the glory, some came from despair.
The army in black had their secret weapon,
among all their thousands stood but one women.
She was firm, stood her ground, she stepped down for no man.
She stood tall and beautiful, sword in her hand.
She was clever and quick, she had a snakes bight.
Her looks were angelic but her venom was quick,
and behind those clear eyes her heart was like ice.
She had no just cause, for her the battle was game.
She fought for her own glory, she fought for her name.
No man had yet to beat her, no army brought her down.
She was cheered in the courts, and adored by the crowned.
This was just another exercise to further raise her stature.
The fight would be quickly won, of this she was quite sure.
At once, the signal was give, the trumpets, they blared.
The soldiers moved forward, their dormant blood flared.
The woman fought calmly, she quickened not even her breath.
She moved quickly and surely, dealing out swift death.
Her movements were fluid, like the steps of a dance.
She swung, bobbed, and weaved without breaking the trance.
She batted not an eye, nor did she flinch.
She practiced no caution, her heart felt no fear.
She gave swift retribution while moving like a deer.
This battle raged on, for hours on end.
Many held their own, but some failed to defend.
In the teaming of numbers one could no longer tell
The heroes from cowards in this bloody hot hell.
Our lady fought calmly, she gave not a thought,
To the swiftly waining numbers that fell as she fought.
She viewed all as animals, cattle for slaughter.
No more threat to her that a farmer's young daughter.
In her calculating mind it never occurred,
There could be a ray of light among this herd.
He was younger than her and not much to see,
But he fought with his heart, and he fought for the free.
His heroic passion stirred him to fight.
Within, his love for country was an undying light.
Each time his sword brought death to another,
He mourned within for the loss of a brother.
The fray brought these two combaters nearer.
One with beating heart, one without fear.
What would soon occur neither could see.
They moved without knowledge of what soon would be.
At that very moment the sky parted ways.
The sun showed his face, and distributed his rays.
Upon the young man in his heroic stride,
The sun shone most brightly and remained at his side.
Above our cold woman, however, clouds remained.
From her all warmth and light was drained.
The prophecy of skies would soon be shown.
When the outcome of battle would come to be known.
Our man and our woman met on the field.
The fighting was furious, such blows they did wield.
But the inevitable happened as sword with body did mesh.
The cold bight of steel met the soft warmth of flesh.
The blood on the grass spelled our lady's fate.
Out spilled her life, out poured her hate.
She lay on the ground, her body was broken.
A curse from her lips was her last living token.
So often she fought, mortality her goal.
Now in battle churned earth rests her mortal soul.