Perched on the lush green tree,
In the middle of the field,
It’s eyes scouted the scene
Waiting for the next prey to yield.
There was much clamour,
Boisterous loud noises,
When men in fine armour
Burnt faith in to ashes.
Spitting and spewing hatred
With every gasp of breath;
Love’s defence was truly shattered
Whilst they did fight to their death!
Some said it was for a cause,
That it was glory to die for one’s land.
Had they learned to think and pause
Could they not sense it was getting out of hand?
