Wearied fellows laid down their arms,
Rather than face a cruel autumn ahead.
Victims and survivors together toasted,
In remembrance of all those now dead.
Many words pass amongst the attendees,
Yet they do not convey understanding.
For they all only showed their faces,
Because being alone was too demanding.
Doors will unlock and borders will open,
The trespassed welcome their trespassers.
Though all clutch their old derringers,
In case the caterers turn into gassers.
Some have grimaces etched upon the face,
While others smile or act coldly stoic.
Though they all are asking the question,
Why didn't they do anything more heroic?
They played their parts like marionettes,
Built by Lucifer who grasped the strings.
Acting out of their illusionary volition,
Whether they be peasants, vassals or kings.
Paper over the deep seated little hatreds,
That is what they all will inevitably do.
Until the fated dreadful day comes along,
When it becomes the thing they cannot do.