A thunder of war roared through the sky,
as the armies ran towards each other.
Bone-breaking blows
of warhammers,
shields crushed, steel broke,
flesh torn apart.
Gut-ripping strokes
of foul swords fell,
impaled by spears, blood spitting dying.
Pierced by arrows
on the blood drenched fields,
the penetrating stench of death.
More enemy forces leapt
out of the hills,
overwhelming our flanks.
But then our captain
rose the banner and screamed:
“You’ll fight to the end,
don’t fear no defeat!”
And now new strength was found,
the turn in the fight.
As a falcon shrieked and
pierced the sky above,
into amazement the enemy fell.
Our flanks reformed and
we fiercely charged again.
Yes, once again a furious
warcry filled the sky,
the glorious falcon, our victory is near.
With our capatin
in the frontline,
holding the banner of the falcon up high.
And so we charged on to fight…
With the swing of the blunt battle axe
and the reaping halberds.
The terrifying screams of our enemies,
now brutally
slaughtered at will.
In the frenzy,
fair young men
left with
shattered faces
and strong heroes’ arms
left dismembered.
That was the price of our victory.


by Zé Mingau