Hollow Victory

Into a mountain fastness I have climbed toiling all day
under the sleet and hail but here I am and quietly
will I remain until the mountain king arrives
to take his rightful place in this hall
once echoing with laughter
and mead and Valkyries
dismounting from
their steeds
to tarry
with us
mere mortals
now only howling
of the wind breaks into
the silent cemetery we have
mistaken for victory, a day’s march
ahead of my men who will find no spoils
here for all the blood they shed now frozen
back on the plain and comingled beyond recognition
with one another in death the common enemy
so here I sit alone catching my breath and
waiting for the darkness to put out the
flame that always kept us going
until now; the time has come
to abandone the hounds
of glory and the bugle
call to no where

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