The Blood Stained Valley

A classic battle of good and evil from the viewpoint of a casualty of the battle who has witnessed his son's death countless of times in his continuous replay of the horrific night. The warmth of my son is what keeps me going As the valley below waits cold and unknowing. Sensing evil as it comes They start the war, we sound the drums, The drums that echo through the night To tell the world "Prepare to fight!" Desperate warriors clash with might. Fear in their left hands, pride in their right. The valley full of dead men living. They took from their country, now they are giving Heart and soul, blood, then life. Man risking it all for his children and wife. Heart and drums beating as one. Amidst it all, the screams of my son As cold fate and blade leaves his corpse behind But drags off his soul and part of mine. Holding back tears, gasping for air, numbed by the pain, I do not feel the tear Of my flesh. Life pours out as I splash within blood. Cadaver forgotten and covered in mud. I sit up from my body weeping with sorrow. Now cursed to remain in this field, no tomorrow. Reliving this nightmare, hoping I'm in a dream. Everyday forced to hear my first son's last scream! The warmth of my son is what keeps me going As the valley below waits cold and unknowing.