Date Posted:11:13:10 05/19/00 Fri Author: Jax Subject: The Skirmish
The waiting for battle
has taken its toll,
men are impatient,
and, reckless.
Just two days back
I patrolled the outer
perimeter of our defenses
and watched a group of
volunteers strike out
to reconnoiter.
Their leader was the stranger,
the one with the foreign name,
Rob-ert, who came to us
lamenting his lost love.
He led the small band
toward the lines of the enemy.
I watched from on high
as they edged their way
closer and closer,
I could see that they
had been spied by the
guarding sentinels,
and, began the descent
to warn Rob-ert of his danger,
before I could warn them,
the enemy attacked.
The battle waged back and forth,
flurry and slash, cut and hack,
a short, furious exchange.
And, when I landed at last
there were only the dead
and the dying. An uneven match,
but, our few fought valiantly,
acquitting themselves well,
but, the larger force o'er came them,
and they lay scattered, among
the enemy dead.
I landed before they had a
chance to escape, a pitiful
small remnant, wounded themselves,
but brave--yes, brave--and foolish,
they attacked me with sword and
knife. I flexed my wings,
and extended my talons--and soon there
were none alive on bloody patch
of ground, except myself.
I took from the dying Rob-ert the
locket which he wore and promised
to return it to the girl whose
picture lay within... if...I am
still alive when this war ends.
