War is coming, every soul be warned.
So defend them now, the would-be mourned.
Take up arms: axes, swords and shield.
And face your foes on the battlefield.

Dawn crests the grass, the mountains and peak,
Painting the plain that will strike down the weak.
Armies advance; both sides come to meet.
One to taste victory; the other, defeat.

In a game of chess the pawns go first,
Angry, screaming for the blood they thirst.
Armies clash with the thunder of Gods.
Fight on, brave, however dire the odds.

They dance the dance of metal and blood.
Victims now, to the ground made mud.
Glory forgotten and honour forsaken,
Every blade fall is another life taken.

And when battle has ended and all is done,
Death claims all, his bounty won.

Originally published by the UK Poetry Library in Poets of the Year 2013.  

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