Songs for the fallen

we found a golden goose on the road to Avalon the trubadour with his lute sang songs in a minor key and we danced on a knife edge in the snow.

we toasted the new dawn as we sipped ale from pewter cups that had the names of the fallen etched on them.

we salouted them and stood silently and prayed that they found peace in the afterlife on the other side

but the tune had taken on a sinister beat

the trubadour filled with hate as he sings songs for the fallen knowing that such a waste of life should have never been allowed