He held the sword within his hands <br />Hesitated as he breathed <br />All at once with all his might <br />Broke the sword across his knee <br /> <br />He was the son of a King <br />In battle. he had always won <br />But would not raise sword again <br />To take the life of anyone <br /> <br />As he looked across the battlefield <br />For this too he had won <br />As he stood he stood alone <br />He had survived the only one <br /> <br />All of this and for what <br />He had won but had not <br />Across the field his friends there lay <br />What was it he had got <br /> <br />As he looked for his steed <br />The blood trickled down his knee <br />He saw it standing in the center field <br />He approached it desperately <br /> <br />As he stumbled across the field <br />His eyes searched for breath of life <br />But wounded he would walk alone <br />For all they had died <br /> <br />He somehow climbs upon his steed <br />He bleeds now profusely <br />His steed it takes just six short steps <br />He falls too to destiny.<br /><br />Bill Simmons<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-battle/
