war poetry

The tormentor slammed the heavy wrought iron door.
"No information yet from this guy" he mumbled to himself
"But we have ways, yes we do," he continued to murmur to himself.
After all the prisoner, captured from the underground was very fortunate.
"How may in his group in the forest? How many women? Weapons? What are they up to next?
It was like an annoying ant on a thick-skinned elephant/
Besides the lieutenant realized, we're losing the damned war.
How will it end? How many more months?

The General went fore, a prisoner of war,
Enchained at the enemy’s behest;
But now he’s back, the dust is slack,
With wine I greet my guest.
 
We sing in verse of skies and birds,
Forbidding a barrack word;
With spring before, we leave the war
And howls of night unheard.
 
But peaceful strolls leave generals no role:
The King alone we know;
To climb up high you weary your thighs,
But gaze at your sword and go.
 
 

Nothing is so dear, a noble warrior said,
Than glory bought by armor pierced in blood
Amid the cries of those who’ve fallen in mud—
For what is life if honor’s been left for dead?
 
Emaciated, poor, or stuck without life’s luck,
It’s to the bold and daring that the world goes;
Whether in women, war, or what ambition sows,
With courage alone we come up from the muck.
 
Some say the day-maker rises with the sun
As the lord of night shines down from the moon:
For all that’s fire, a life without water is none,