Army of forgiveness

   Upon a bloody battlefield, where time doth seem to slow,
Where sword and steel and men do clash, and brothers' blood doth flow,
There was a blackened army, opposite an army of red.
Commanders' horses traced the line, where death and fear are bred.

 "Show mercy not!" said the lord in Black, and turned to his fellow Red,
Who slowly spoke and with his words he said:
"They show no mercy, relentless death, but we shall win this fight,
All need you do is forgive the man, who drives you to death's bite."

  And so the armies clashed, and men gave up thier youth,
But before each Red left the world, forgiveness bespoke his mouth.
The Black men filled with rage, insulted by Red's grace,
Rose high thier blades and withn switftness struck, Reds met with death's embrace.

  As Black struck Red with raging blow, Red uttered one last line,
But overwhelemed with insulted pride, Blacks ignored this futile sign.
The battle fluxed, both sides in turn, did gain and lose thier ground.
But in the end the Reds did fall, and in a sea of Blacks did drown.

  But a hundred Reds and countless Blacks still stood upon the field,
But before the Blacks consumed the Red, thier leader ordered yield.
"Why forgive oh gracious Red, when I am your demise?"
"Because, said Red, "souls pure as each man dies."

  Upon Black's heartless laugh, his men approached the Reds.
Reds spoke thier line as Black struck down, ut it was not Reds who bled.
Raged by Reds' forgiveness will, Blacks missed thier marks with blade,
And in the time Blacks rose thier swords, blows the Reds had made.

  Each line of forgiveness wrought another death, for rage did block Blacks' view.
Red struck with ease at dwindling Black, off guard by Reds' undo.
Every line of forgiveness wrought Blacks' demise, Reds' faith the savior true.
Forgiveness struck with Red alongside, and soon the Blacks were few.

  Returning home a hundred Reds, never walking alone,
Faith in forgiveness a victory insured, and clove Black down to bone.
And thus the Reds destroyed the Blacks, and home they came unscathed,
For forgiveness gave them strategy, of which Black was depraved.

  Forgive the man who rends your flesh, he who wounds your soul,
For the only victory to come from death, is to for your foe console.
Forgive the man who hateth thee, and stike him as the Reds,
Strike with faith, and pure of soul, and unforgiveness shed.