Across the battlefield hangs a deadly still
Clear blue skies barely hide the anticipation
The two forces locked in attrition discover rest
Glad of the respite, singing praise to the eye of the storm
Chance surely to gain sanity before the next onslaught.
And in the no-mans-land the hangman's noose has been taken down
The smell of death has drifted away to another shore
for now seeds are sown and promise grows in the meadow
but for how long, current fibres a temporary halt, surely?
Neither side can claim victory nor a permanent home.
The carousel to turn again, the web to be blown by the wind once more
The unholy to play another weighted hand, claiming to have the gods on their side
And the blighted will surely rise again out of the trenches
for to have survived the furies for so long surely means immunity
Perhaps its time The Fool played his gathered hand?
To burn away the thorns and the hedgerows of constriction
to break the shackles which tie the mystic down
and blow away the poisoned air of the living dead
whos fury of self dictates the drum-beat to which their clan marches
It's time now for their emissaries to lay down their arms and admit defeat.
Most surely the checkmate has been reviewed
The few moves remaining lead to that one certainty
Both kings secured in safety
With neither side risking their queen
Knight's defeated; pawns depleted
Rooks taken to flight
This is most surely not the final battle
Through the clammy mists of stubborn resolve
The blocks and the bricks are built for another cul-de-sac
Another passage through despair; anxiety
With andrenalin coursing through material veins
As the hangman watches from afar through portal panes
Laughing as the humans take sides once more
Another battle, another war
Always another war ................
