The Warriors Widows~by Patrick Kevin O’Shea

This is a simple poem housed within a deeper meaning that asks many questions that are never answered ?

 

 

The Warriors Widows

The warring warriers stood up high on the hill. Just before battle to maim and to kill.

They were ready to die for the King of their land. Ready to reap blood, from the swords in their hands.

For they had been brainwashed, by the top of the tree. To fight for their God, so righteous was he.

Their God and their King within harmony. The land where they lived, their, identity.

They died in a field, in the mud and cold rain. As there blood dripped away, from their blue veins, to drain.

Their King far away in his castle at play.
Drinking from chalices, toasting his victory that day.

The earls and the Lord’s demanding taxes to bring . From the widows of warriors who had died for their King.

Evicted from their homes with nowhere to go. Praying to God within cold sleet and snow.

Nobody came as they perished on the hill. Just after the battle, “to maim and to kill”…

Wulfrunian
Poetry by
Patrick
Copyright@writtenby
Patrick Kevin O’Shea
02/05/2019