They Stood

And they stood once more, Blood dripping, Swords blunt. Both gazed, ever on, Eyes fierce, Burning coals in the dark. All around them,the land red, Blood of enemies, all dead, Men lay, as if in rest. The field ploughed with swords, Sown with souls, Death's scythe harvesting each stalk Cold is the blood, That once ran through the veins Of men,ever bold. Sad is the light, That illuminates, Cruel reminder of better times. One last clash, Sparks flew, And they stood no more.