# Triumph and Tragedy (A battle ballad)

Author: SilverrFox
Tags: Death, Epic, Fight, Fighting, Gay, Love, M/M, Male, No-Yiff, Poem, War

#19 of Writing Prompt Group Submissions

I want to state up front that I am not a poet, nor have I ever written poetry before. I wrote this piece in response to the latest assignment for the Writing Prompt Group, which had the theme "Battle". We were directed to convey a narrative within a combat scene and only write within the actual time period of the combat. That made me think something heroic and epic was needed. A ballad seemed like a good idea to satisfy the prompt.
Anyway, here is my first attempt at what may or may not be considered poetry. It is intended to be a lyrical ballad with ABCB rhyme with iambic trimeter in B and iambic tetrameter in A and C, which means eight syllables in the first and third lines and six in the second and fourth lines of each stanza with the second and fourth lines rhyming. I doubt I got all the accents right, but I gave it my best shot.
This is derived from an ongoing RP that has not been published. It tells how Magnus, an anthro-fox, lost his love, Roland. It is a pivotal moment in his life that leads him down a tragic path.

I, Magnus, am a silver fox,

A soldier since age ten;

I wear half the colors of my

Land, so cruelly riven.

 

A young captain in red and white,

I stand here on this day,

Partly clad by tri colored flag

Eager to join the fray.

 

We stand opposed by our lost half,

Who wear the colors lost,

Smartly attired in green and white.

'Tis kin war's tragic cost.

 

Columns of fresh crisp uniforms

Stand at the end of night.

Lined up like toy tin soldiers, just

Pawns in the general's sight.

 

My mate, Roland, a captain, too,

Stands somewhere to my right

Commanding columns of young men

All certain of their might;

 

Holding fiercely to false feelings

Of immortality,

Each believing he won't become

Today's fatality.

 

It is a way to calm one's soul,

Knowing the dice will roll,

And the random numbers thrown will

Determine death's grim toll.

 

All must believe that they will cheat

The odds that favor death.

Yet, many will lose the gambler's

Game, ending still of breath.

 

Civil war, the worst sort we know.

Brothers fighting brothers,

Fathers versus sons; leaving homes

Filled with grieving mothers.

 

Each fight a poignant tragedy.

Blood flows like a river

That fills an ocean tide, drowning

Both shores without favor.

 

Years of sorrow creating new

Epitaphs carved in stone

That can't crush dreams of victory

From hope carelessly sown.

 

Each army thirsts for victory

In a war without end.

Optimism runs high that war

Can a torn nation mend,

 

But 'tis doomed to be a bloody

Abattoir that adjoins

Debt in lives unredeemable

By any miser's coin.

1

The enemy was on our land

and we on the defense.

We held ground more favorable,

But their army was immense.

 

An artillery barrage brought

false dawn to start our day.

True sunrise made cannon halt and

Their troops to march our way.

 

'Twas a glorious sight to see

Columns in perfect squares,

Thousands in precise step, as if

Of chaos unawares.

 

Fife and drum accompany flags

Unfurled in dawn's first breeze.

Martial music stirs all hearts so

We forget our unease.

 

Green are yet far beyond musket

Range when a line concealed

Is crossed that triggers the command

"Fire!" and red cannons deal

 

Ruin while voicing "Death!" Thunder

Roars and the neat little

Columns erupt with black blossoms

That turn men's bones brittle.

 

Bravery fails. Training takes over.

Men march forward heedless

Of airborne murder that thins but

Fails to slow their progress.

 

I find my own voice when they reach

My secret boundary.

My command lost amid the smoke

And clash of Hell's foundry

 

As my men fire into their ranks

As one, and then reload.

Fast discovered mortality

Is the harvest we sowed.

 

The drummer's beat was buried 'neath

An avalanche of screams ignored

By men bent on breaking our line

With force of gun and sword,

 

But our volleys made them halt and

Stagger like a drunken

Serpent unsure where to strike as

It's body was shrunken.

 

So the middle held and my men

Did shout triumphantly

As our flanks collapsed and our foe's

Plan lost all subtlety.

 

Reinforcements sallied in to

save the left, but the right

Was forgotten by the gen'rals

Who had limited sight.

 

A dutiful soldier obeys

commands, but also must

Show initiative.  When plans fail,

The best learn to adjust.

 

With the center safe, and finding

All other captains dead,

I gathered up two hundred men.

To save the right I led.

 

'Twould be a lie to claim that I

Had only motives pure.

The fate of my dear Roland was

My intent to ensure.

 

His banner flew upon a knoll

Surrounded by green waves

Of a hostile sea threatening

To sweep them to their graves.

 

With roles reversed, I attacked and

my suicide charge gained

More momentum than it deserved,

As if it were ordained

 

By gods who habitually

Play with our mortal lives

And derive pleasure for themselves

As naught but sorrow thrives.

 

Musket fire tore through our advance

As men snapped like tinder.

Deaf were we to agonized screams

Lest our charge be hindered.

 

Lead swarming like bees filled the air

Finding mark after mark

With the distinctive thunk that meant

More lives lost before dark.

 

Why none hit me is a riddle

For wise men to ponder;

Perhaps it was my dreary fate

E're alone to wander.

 

For good or bad, for woe or weal,

We made it through to him,

But my true purpose was for naught

As I bore the god's whim.

 

The tempest raged 'round our island.

For it I had no care.

'Twas luck my selfish lovers charge

Caught our foe unaware.

 

'Neath bodies heaped I found him hurt;

A sword thrust through his chest.

'Twas plain I'd lose my wolf afore

The sun set in the west.

 

Accepting fate, his spirit's paw

Reached out toward the light.

I raged and cried denying truth

Leading a hopeless fight.

 

Roland vouchsafed his love for me;

A crucial last address.

Why did I not exclaim the same

And yield a sweet caress?

 

Instead I yelled for medics where

I knew that there were none;

Though e'en the surgeon's care could not

Reverse what had been done.

 

Thus his body sagged in my arms

after a final breath,

My only hope to rejoin him

Lay somewhere after death.

 

Later I'd be hailed a hero

for deeds done on that day,

But to have my Roland back I'd

Toss victory away.

 

Though general great I became,

Inside I now was dead;

The deep regret of words unsaid

Forever in my head.

 

[END]

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/k1VP5XDm
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