In the morning mist
between the green bloody mounds
a warrior does weep.

He weeps for his men,
those he has sworn to protect
for he has failed them.

Sithe’en hears him
and embraces his sorrow
in a green mantle.

The crows will come soon
but the dead are immortal
transformed by faerie.

Apple and pear stand
where warriors once battled
slain by axe and sword.

Armor is caught up
captured by bark and brown wood
the Green Man’s defense.

Demi-fey kiss them
dancing among their flowers
when spring brings new life.

Sidhe rest beneath
in the dappled summer sun
guarding hidden doors.

Mortals take their fruit
plucking each orb with great care
during the harvest.

Snow and biting wind
make them relive their battles
with clashing branches.

The warrior rests
after years of harvest peace
beneath his brothers.