Tailor Bell - The Old Dance

In twilight days of half meals
We gathered weapons in, anger
Long stilled into vaporous ether
Whisked away unseen, a constant
Blown clear off these curled brows
For it had finally been enough
This unfathomable loss of us

The fighting of flesh, the torn minds
Ripping and flailing about of limbs, acts
Against greater odds, desperate thoughts
Lingering for eternity between hot breaths
Sweat of common and high ranking
Mingled with battle fluids crushed
Beneath wild gaze and maiden strengths

Slipping about every heart, our fallen
Purged to the surface in anguish
Unblemeshed ghost fathers
Nagging the mete of our worth
Dispatched at ever more familiar foe
Pressing fate amid this clumsy waltz
Of true victory none, then weary home

Tailor Bell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-dance/