of honor and horses


warriors of old with decorum and grace
drag their sweepy feet across the afternoon sky
bringing their fabled horses to rest
in the pasture hanging in the sky

far gone are the days where men such as these
were revered in the sky by those below
mimicked by those not knowing any better
and praised by those who thought that they did

the final battle in the sky has been won
and the final worshiper has bee laid to rest
so the shepherds rein in their lazily drifting sheep
and the warriors pack up their weapons

only stirred up in a fury
for purely material reasons; no pride resides here
it disappeared when the first big flash in the sky lit
and signaled the beginning of the end


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