Orcs of the Red Blade

Oh dying orc amongst the ferns
The day is late, the sun, it burns
His head is sore, his stomach churns
Another dies, the world, it turns.

Oh dying orc in pale moonlight
His body broken, he cannot fight
Bereft of honor, strength or might
It’s growing dark, he fades from sight.

Oh dying orc soon to be drowned
Sinking slow, never to be found
No last rites, no burial mound
He breathes his last without a sound

Oh dying orc face down in snow
Failed to block his enemy’s blow
Such wasted life ‘neath spiteful foe
He feels so numb from head to toe

Oh dying orc beneath the trees
Lets out a final painful wheeze
No one around to hear his pleas
He could have lived, he’ll rest in peace

Oh crying orc amongst the furs
So wracked with grief, she softly purrs
Her love is gone and woe is hers
She turns to ale, her vision blurs

This is such a sad little poem and one I really like! Especially the last stanza - it sums up the road many take in life.

Do keep them coming, they're wonderful!