The Setting Sun

That shape in the distance takes it's dainty figure, and we come to realize it's the beautiful Queen.
We race in her direction only to find sand, and marauders.
This sneak attack is a coward's best friend, and our counter-attack is put to play!
Our swords clash.
Our words race from our well paced mouths.
The passion is brought to the scene with the breaching of a scream!
The sand becomes mud, with dripping blood leaking from the gaping wounds, and our wives decide to begin digging the individual tombs.
The general's grasp the maps, and battle plans.
The King stands, hand on blade, but is sat down by his building fear.
Tears pour from the serf's eyes as the see the tyrannical armies send wave, after wave of weaponed slaves, braves, and children with explosives tied to their chests!
Our left flanks dispatch, but all this is to no avail.
The enemy knows our tactics, for they were once us.
They are us now!

The battle did not last too long, with everyone placed in slavery, the evil military swarm readies for the next village to plunder.
Slaves, braves, and children with explosives tied th their chests!

J. Hollaway!