Song of Revenge

It seemed to him a battle raged.

And circumspect, the sleepy blaze
Betrayed the corpses. Embers crowned
The open brazier of the town.

And if he came too late, he rode,
Was altered under fire's glow,
With auburned cheeks and sootened eyes,
Too young to brace and realise
There can be nothing in this place
To bear the part of mercy's grace,
To bleach the blood before it calls
Or catch the youth before he falls
From this bleak manuscript of death.

Thus echoes now his pledging breath:

“I shall not return until...”

And when his purpose thus enthroned
Sets forth upon the winter road,
His course is set, his purpose born
In hate. Thus fate will be redrawn.

His words will echo down the years
To sons whose sons will bear the tears
Of all the young who once believed
That justice could be thus achieved:

In circles ever traced in vain,
By blood on blood and round again.