Truce

Peace has descended, calming the 
atmosphere. A pale, pastel crescent 
of luminous shades now divides the 
combatants whose furious struggle had 
roiled the heavens, sending thunderous 
claps of their deadly conflict echoing and
rolling around the dark night, violent daggers 
and lances slashing the sky, illuminated 
by deadly thrusts. The battered sky 
offered dense grey clouds to shield from
sight those mighty armies marching to 
meet their destined primal need
to conquer, one to prevail, the other to
languish in miserable defeat. Who the
winner and who the loser never known
by the curious, cowering mortals below.
Fearful but inspired withal to emulate
those unseen higher powers and in
honour of their imperial strut they embark
on their own unending grounded wars,
attacking, destroying, pillaging, murdering
betraying the souls and the spirits within
crying for salvation. Substituting a
white flag for that noble rainbow, peace
settles nervously over the land until
the next irridentist tyrant becomes
restively bored, raising war's banner.