Battleground

The grand monarchs once more awaken
Adorning themselves in emerald finery
And begin to compete amongst themselves.
So focused on these greater rivals
They do not notice the stealthful approach
Of much smaller combatants
Who's great speed and numbers allows them to swarm upon their foes
Severing limbs
Devouring flesh
Until the weakest of these ancient warriors
Finally topples to the ground
Dying so that others may live.

Nearby, others raise brilliant banners
Radiant colors to draw in the aviators,
Messengers as talented as Hermes himself,
To deliver most important cargo between them.
But the fliers don't work for free
And so, when their mission is complete,
They drone back with their bounty
To their grand palaces of many halls.

Through the fields march the soldiers
Burdened with their plunder
From a fierce giant's temporary settlement
Of red and white checkered cloth.
Ever onward march the soldiers
Toward their vast underground bunker
Where royalty awaits the spoils of war.

Great armadas again patrol the waterways
That were so recently sheathed in ice
And the sun is at times eclipsed
By immeasurable squadrons
As they return once again from far off regions
To the land of their births.

The warfare repeats itself yet again
No one able to come out victor
Only able to maintain an unsteady alliance with some
And with others, merely a stalemate
But even though it is a battle no one can win
That doesn't halt the fighting
For to stop is to surrender
And to surrender is to die.