It, ..is almost over
I am,
the last…
Around me like fallen lotus blossom
My foes lay trophies to my sword

No banner, to my colours
no call,
from loyal kin
Billowing smoke enfolds this desolate veranda
Rain soaked mud cloys foot and shin

Tapestry of raindrops dance
Cool kisses from brow, onto lip
Ribbon in my topknot,
dances with the wind

Horizon,
red sun winks through broken cotton
Footprints pool weeping from the dead
Five times this horde I have countered
arms trembling while they prowl

Bordered from out by many
respectful distance maintained
On horse back, indifferent
the Lordling offers
Six more flies to the feast

Two sword grips I tighten
Clad feet in mud, I ground
Shadows cover enemy eyes,
Circling jackals coveting