The wisdom of the mind, when left with visions of a God.
He crossed the field as his army faced his anger, his disappointment.
They had failed to capture his enemy to take the castle.
His eyes scanned the horizon as the vulture ate of the dead.
He stood for what seemed like eternity to his men,
then his voice called out in a tremble.
Today we have failed, while the gods watched us, from the clouds above.
Today we have let our brothers die in vane as their bodies are eaten by Vultures.
All men stood with eyes cast down, as the memories of their fallen brothers
crossed their mind and their lips as all said a payer to the fallen.
The General raised his arm and pointed to the sky.
There shall be no failure tomorrow we shall win our battle.
His eyes scanned the army that stood before him, men who have been to battle
with him since they were young boys.
Now withered and challenged by age, they all stood on legs worn by many miles,
by many battles and many long winters without warm clothing.
They followed his commands with honor without question.
His goal was to lead his men to battle, that was his mission his families mission.
Here on this field, many many miles away from the land of his birth, he stood and watched
as Vultures called out with bellies filled, with the eyes of his fallen men,
to enter the next life without eyes was a curse.
His once mighty army no longer what it was many years ago.
Now it was simply a army of memories, of battles won but that was many years ago.
He stood and watched the ridge of the mountain, there stood his enemy thousands of young men in battle wear.
They stood proudly as he once did or sat high on mighty steeds.
In the distance one of theirs on a black horse road in his direction with a flag of truce.
He knew what this was, a peace offering, turn and go home as one, or face the anger of
a mighty army.
He once too ruled a mighty army, he once too was young and road a mighty horse.
He watched as the rider came near, then he raised his weary arm and said,
tonight the gods are calling us home.
Home he said again, better we return home to be a memory, then to be the food of Vultures.
With that he turned and headed home.
He turned and left one final word, we shall win this battle with our lives,
for I shall not be like Cesar and leave you here to die.
For I am not too proud to say, a better army won, and I shall return with wounds that heal, an ego filled with memories as I hold my son at night.
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