Sparkatale

Polaris

 

Underneath a midnight sky,

A sigh comes forth

From somewhere down below

The city walls.

 

And somewhere, hidden in the undergrowth,

The wearied cries of one for whom

A battle, fought unwillingly,

Has claimed too many nights.

 

And, gazing up into the dark expanse,

The blackness now gives way,

The sky that once had seemed to break

Now gives a gentle light.

 

Perhaps, beyond the city walls,

Another captain lies atop the citadel,

Defending empty streets from armies

That none have ever seen.

 

One captain stumbles still to walk,

The horrors not long past,

A life that nearly ebbed

For one night’s sleep.

 

The other battles on atop the tower,

As many times before,

And stumbles too along the way,

So weary now of running.

 

Perhaps the battle need not rage

Upon the coming dawn,

Or long-lost strength come forth

To wage a war that cannot be won.

 

Perhaps the gates can open,

And the captains meet in light of day,

Their arms now casting off

As peace then reigns.

 

Perhaps the walls can lie behind,

And battle be forgotten,

For much is lost, and much is gone,

And little now is left.

 

Perhaps, as morning comes and concord reigns,

A newer song can come from thankful lips,

And peace can live and war pass into legend,

As war-torn plains become a grove, beneath a mended sky.

 

24/3/19