As the sun rose early, over the hill
All was calm and quiet and still,
And in the valley, waters caressed
The grassy banks of the river bed;
And dewdrops glistened over leafy heads
Like ocean pearls on oyster beds,
And gentle willows bowed in prayer,
To worship nature's wondrous care
But up above, as dawn turned to day,
Silently watching, perched the birds of prey
Then in the calm and quiet and still,
Came a cry of battle, over the hill
And in the valley, from either side,
They came on foot and horse astride,
Deadly of purpose and deed in mind,
They sallied forth their fate to find.
Young and old and weak and strong,
For plunder and pillage, they came along.
And as each faced the other that day
Above, grew restless, the birds of prey
Then at a stone's throw all stood still,
And a deafening silence fell over the hill;
Each pondered, an instant, if he'd know,
Man from man, and friend from foe;
But unbidden came the need to wrest
All that which, the other possessed;
The price of war would surely abate
If victory, today, should be their fate.
And man faced man for battle that day,
So took to the air, the birds of prey.
And over the hill, on this grassy field,
Now rang the sound of sword on shield;
And louder still, than one could bear,
Cries of the fallen pierced the air
And yet unheard by those at hand,
As each struggled to make a stand;
Yet no one thought to yield the fight
To those left standing still in sight.
Fierce grew the battle throughout the day
And hovered, ever closer, the birds of prey.
From early dawn and into the day
The carnage couldn't be held at bay
Fear took hold of the meek and old
As mercy fled from the young and bold
And those that pillaged the fallen foe
Were plundered themselves not long ago
When no one there was left to stand
The battle's end came near at hand
And As the final few perished that day
Frenzied grew the feeding of the birds of prey
And when the sun set over the hill
All was calm and quiet and still
And the waters now, sullied red,
Lapped gently over the river bed;
And weeping willows bowed in grief
Over the river bank, seeking relief.
The wind through many a leafy head,
Mourned for souls of the many dead.
And the littered remains would in time decay,
Left to nature's will, by the birds of prey.
And to this day, the tales are told
Of battles and conquests and deeds bold;
But what of pain and suffering wrought;
We only revel in the victories sought.
It seems our legacy will always remain
Of death and destruction and endless pain
For greed and avarice, so it's known,
Man's worst enemy is man alone;
And humanity is unique to mankind' I say,
Vanquished only, by its own bird of prey.
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