Banners stream in a wind
that will not give its name,
as sparrows gather for a feast,
unmindful of the rain.

The stars are eyes in the night;
An unseen host stares down
as Chaos, trapped in brazen coils,
comes suddenly unbound;

Between crimson battlements,
Armies in contention,
draw creeds and charge en mass upon
shards of stale convention.

Love and Hope haunt the shadows
wearing widow vails
as the world writhes in dragon claws,
dragged swiftly off to hell.

Death is dancing everywhere
(At least the show is free)
and I hear the phoenix trill of War
inspired by this comedy.

No war has ever stopped the next,
but we've weapons still to try.
This brave new world guarantees
you've earned the right to die.