It was war within a clearing,
gleaming underneath the moon.
We were circling the natives,
it would all be over soon.
But then, something happened,
we had never hoped to think.
The tables turned, we were surrounded.
All we had to do was blink.
They disarmed us, left us blinded.
Stumbling into the night.
No wounds, no battle scars
To prove there ever was a fight.
And although I’m grateful,
Still alive
A question burns within my soul.
If they had the upper hand,
Why’d they ever let us go?


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