The hills were quiet, nothing said
No movement, not a breath
The grass was stained with blood
And the air full of the stench of death
Then came the sound of hooves
A figure took shape through the mist
He came to a stop, removing his helmet
And angrily clenched his fist
The battle was over, not a soul in sight
And yet the war was still on
He knew that he had to ride
And make sure every villain was gone
Then he spurred his steed forward
Through bodies of friends and foe alike
And as he raced to his brothers’ aid
Ready to mount heads on a pike
As onwards he sped
Disaster suddenly struck
For this warrior brave at heart
Did have the most horrid luck
For the horse’s leg fell
And the soldier did too
Down the rocky hill
He bounced and he flew
He crashed at the bottom
His blood joining theirs
And so ends the gripping tale
Of the luckless soldier’s affairs.