War Torn Kingdom

A cold steel blade,
Warmed through the lifeblood of ruby, and Shinshu,
A dream hidden in the blade.
Drenched up to the hilt, as a malevolent adieu,
The predator of obsession,
Used without second thought,
It's master filled with a greed possession,
For those deemed unworthy, the slaught.
Night silence, penetrated by screams,
Stars seeming grey and distant,
Weapons clanging at their masters' whims,
And the braying of mighty war beasts so gallant.
For want of that which is beautiful, and exotic,
Feet trampling over weeping shores.
Splintered mountains, trembling flames, and fallen moons, toxic,
Against an innocent sky,
Turned black with smoke.
Searching for their prize, like a magpie,
Until the history books see this society only through it's gunsmoke.