Men, Jousting For Death

I heard a clash, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ fleeing the wood.
The moon hid in a cloud.
¦¦¦¦ in shadow I stood.
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ thought I,
Holding my breath.
‘Men must be cruel and proud,
‘Jousting for death’.

¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ glimmering shone
The moon; ¦¦¦ the wind blew colder.
A man ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
Bent to his horse’s shoulder.
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Darkly I fled.
Owls ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ were shrill,
And the moon sank red.


(Blackout of Middle-Ages by Siegfried Sassoon)