For Remembrance

Doth thou remember?
Tis but a faint shadow now.
Grass, green as emeralds,
Where young lads wander,
Performing activities of sorts
I cannot state to the end:
Striking the earth hard,
So as to draw bright ores from her.
Selling these metals for coin,
So as to purchase a hatchet,
Burying its head deep,
So as to gain wood from her limbs.

Sable earth, deprived of seed,
Where Hell's stench wafts into the air,
A warrior with partisan faces his brother,
Him who unfolds himself and weapon,
Red as blood and,
As when the wind and sea collide,
A brilliance shouts from the heavens,
So doth the quarrel ensue so mightily.

White stone, large walls,
Two great lovers stand,
Seperated only by blood.
Her father declines them so,
Yet pines him she doth still.
"Romeo, O' Romeo."
She pleads time and again.
Surely they would have love,
Would it not be for the one man.

Ay, tis but a shadow now,
A mere memory, painfully throwing daggers,
Not of metal, nay!
but of mind, of thought.

Now I think of the land,
And how she hath changed.
Wars happen, and over what?
Over coin made of gold!
Mastery of a trade is common!
They focus on objectives unimportant.
They focus on their pockets,
O how beastly they can be!

Halt! Doth them make changes to their ways?
Nay, though their tongues are laced with sugar.
While coin becomes the object of desire,
And brotherhood bound by word becomes unlike itself,
Sit they on their mighty throne,
Laboring with semantics!
Say’st thou that it shall become well,
But mark this on thou's departure.
While waiting for the grass to grow,
The starved horse, to Death will go.