Farming Trolls

Shoot the cannons don’t you feel! See the blood, makes the grass grow Battle field kings no time to heal Tear limps and lives from our foes Sickles in the hands of trolls Farmlands of ploughs and blades Monster’s coming so we run Memories of heroes and parades Fade as some lose a son A father, husband, death has one Their troll is loud and vicious Seeking vengeance from death’s toll Scattered in black holes with malicious Waiting under the knoll The plough no man controls The land gave the fruit, then was pressed Where men crawled and cried Some lived but lost soul’s breath Some teared for their wives With thoughts of future lives I made it home, sit and wonder What was it all for Why emotions stayed in slumber Why I miss war Chained to this yore So my dreams come at night The farmer and his tools Taking cover, with some sprite Yet the farmer and his ghouls Pull the plough with his bulls As I run from the troll and his sickle