Last Man Standing

He held his sword in his bleeding hand. Standing deathly still he looked around the battle field. It was all that was left of what he had been fighting for. Blood and death is what it came down too. He dropped to his knees and dug his sword into the ground. It was all over. He was the last man standing. He clung onto the hilt of his sword as if it would somehow re-write the past. It's not what he wanted, but it's what it had come too. He couldn't change it. He stood up, leaving his sword in the ground. He was given a chance to fight for her and he had taken it. He pulled the bloody sword out of the ground and returned it to the sheath. He walked away from the battle field with his head held high. Not a single body moved. Each step took him further from his past and closer to his future. He'd remember this battle for what it really was. A battle for freedom. For peace. For love...