Warrior's way (needs editing)

Poetry log

A messy kill

Crowing over defeated friends,

who battled gamely too the end.

The warrior bleeds triumphant free, 

casting aside his astringent allies of the past.

His progress is littered,

with the bones of brothers.

Long forgotten friends and foes,

have faded to facimile

as he sought air to freely breathe,

not just solely for his lungs to love,

but for his dependent progeny.

He knows his sweet success

sits bitter in other men’s mouths.

Sometimes it sits bitter in his own,

tasting acrid like betrayal and

loyalty lost to pride and greed.

He knows it isn’t true,

to every ally he has been true.

But fate is cruel it twists a man,

and it can twist him till he fights his clan.

so with solemn heart and loathing

of action,

he fights them, 

wins

and crows,

then sighs.

then looks into the eyes

of his wife,

his child,

and wonders what God would force

his children to compete

for the scarce resources

everyone needs to survive, thrive

and turn the seed,

into something beautiful.

Then he girds his loins,

prepares again,

to battle all those who would dare

to try and take the spoils he won

for those he loves to grow upon.