Iron and stone, that laid to rest,
Squires and kings in a game of chess.
For here they dance the endless game,
Of sword and pen, riches or fame.
Yet bound in cage to serve the end,
Martyrs of blood, the waste of men.
War defines of the honor and faith,
Comprise of strings, the puppet estate.
Yet time they turn their iron arm,
Vow by oath to never do harm.
The thousand ideas, distant and remote,
Oppose to end the game’s bloody, promote.
Endow in tunes before the Scarlet tree,
A promise to sway against war they see.
Their silent words reach to shouted fear,
Until the last would finally hear.
That war evolves and never pause,
But men would shine with defiant cause.
DeviantArt Page: JJpeabody