ODE TO THE FALLEN
Age shall not weary them
Nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
Laurence Binyon
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Fallen Warrior
Beneath the lotus tree
In the garden of eternal bloom
A warrior sits among the bloosms
Gazing into the eye of the moon
Wondering into the future
But still so far from the past
His heart pounding beneath his tunic
Knowing the dye is about to be cast
Crickets in the background
Wind rustling through the trees
He closes his tear stained eyes
As the vision of his future is about to be
Silently as the night
The enemy spills over the wall
Into the garden of eternal bloom
How many warriors shall fall?
Soliders made of dark shadows
With hearts made of stone
Surround the lone warrior
As he sits on his lotus covered throne
Unsheathing his sword
His heart beating faster then before
One slice through the air
And two soliders are no more
Sweat dripping off his brow
The wind turning into a storm
Our warrior getting weaker
The end is beginning to form
With a quick flick of the wrist
Our brave soul feeling the pain
As his blood begins to spill
As begins the falling of the rain
He slowly falls to his knees
Thunder flashes across the sky
The enemy has him surrounded
As he lets out one final cry
Falling towards the petals
Beneath the sacred lotus tree
A single warrior full of honor
His existance shall no longer be
Sarah Stopka