Last
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Sing to me in simple tunes
Of what homer wrote,
gazing on this world Of the essence that shall prevail
Of a returning, the battle beings of Troy

Of the clanging axes,
and the shimmer of red
When the skyward facing warrior lay on his back Fallen from living
A sword close to his heart, stabbed through

When the vile banshee wail
To tell us how death shall prevail
Does the harp still hum
A song of the grandeur of a life to live

Will it not be a solemn waste
To smile amidst such a faux pas
Of how centuries of bleed , greed and the obsession to rule
In place of gentle love , has come to last.