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HUNDREDS #12/100: How We Won the War

  • Matthew Brinkley
  • Dec 3, 2024
  • 1 min read


We wept for our lost dead,

We grew weary of war. 

Our sons and our daughters,

Unburied in fields afar. 


While hunting in the wild,

I came across a man,

Lamenting his lost son,

From our rival’s war band.


A minority wished

That war’s end not be called:

Our lords and their nobles,

Sat safe in castle walls. 


We rounded up our lords.

Their nobles: tossed in sacks.

We locked them in the Hall,

And left a single axe. 


We broke bread and waited. 

We talked of our shared dreams. 

We drank our barrelled ale,

And listened to the screams.


 
 
 

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