Ann Christine Tabaka writes

The One Who Wields the Sword

Oh you who came before

walking in the silver door.

Who held the sword for you,

when battles fought were through?

You walked on air so high,

the gods opened up the sky

Daybreak before you bowed,

as you stood among the proud.

Your winged carriage does await

to fly you past the gilded gate.

From your throat a baleful war cry,

meant to bleed the heavens dry.

Now the time draws near.

You again will thrust your spear

into the longing hearts of men,

who follow you to the very end.

 

 War -- Pablo Picasso