The Quartermaster's Dream

T'was in the depths of a smothered void
that I awoke and lay in a field of fallen
- the whole force laid injured or destroyed;
I rose and I stumbled, I tripped and I fell in
a pool of crimson life, flowing out of the King
who had a shaft not quarter, not half, but all in;
He spoke in a croak, he begged me to bring
his flute which his maiden daughter gave him
and played upon a tone shriller than all the music
then he died in my arms, and to prove he was human
Spoke his last words with a fair farewell to ascend to God.

I awoke and lay in shock - in a sweat, I hit the rod
that I'd use to poke the 'pprentice when he was slacking;
I'd seen his swollen corpse in a ditch - the poor sod -
he was only here to keep the metal from cracking;
Did he sin so much to happen to have no value?

I ran to the good Lord's heavenly pavilion
where the angels in plate, with scratched steel wings
bore both devil pikes and eyes like owls talons;
"My Lord shall have nothing with you,that stench that thy brings"
I heard a whisper of acceptance, and the fools they moved past
so into the war tent I did fly, and saw my king had nigh passed -
He said in God's name, he had fought his fight, and for those yet to pass
"That Great Men have yet to know their Achilles Heel
- that they're worth no more than the price of steel
and that they're no more than wind-words and no zeal."

I awoke for all had gone silent.
Hours had passed
The flies that had massed
so I staggered back here from the violence