Red Dawn

The dawn bursts red,
Like the blood of a God has been spilt,
and is spreading across the sky.
The shepard gasps in delight, as the sun sets.
The golden orb slwoly departs from the skies,
A rhetorical yellow balloon,
That burns, but never pops.
The many men of war,
all cease fire, and stare upon the wonderous sunset.
They are now brothers in arms,
With their tools of death,
lying forgotten in the mud.
The Lions themselves stop chasing the gazelles,
and roar a chorus of the sunset hymn.
Then the sun is gone.
And the cold and haertless moon,
Shadows over the land.
The Shepard hurriedly moves his flock to a cave,
As the wolves watch hungrily.
The truce lasy forgotten,
In place of the guns,
sitting in the mud,
As the men of war continue to end lives indiscriminately.
The Lions maul the gazelles,
who have grown careless under the glowing sun,
The lethargy is their undoing.
The Moon watches proudly,
At the chaos the night has instilled.
Bats prey upon the weak.
Wolves prey upon the strong.
Humans are cowering in fear.
And the sun has hidden itself,
Out of pure cowardice.
But as the owls hoot,
And fly lively.
The sun reaps its reward.
It shines from behind the pallid moon,
Staining it blood red.
The Lions now in turn,
Run from the gazelles,
Who attempt to spear the lions with horns.
The men of war, now dressed in colourful kimonos and headbands,
all sings songs of peace,
and smoke drugs,
In hope fo some sort of epiphany.
The shepard, who had protected the flock from wolves,
In a passive docility.
And has now slaughtered the sheep,
and wears their wool,
as a trophy.
But all is different.
Until the next Red Dawn.