The Tribal War

In the darkness eons past
run the warriors of the mountain
in my distant land of mystery,
to battle called by challenges
by enemies from the sea
that swarmed like ants upon the sand
screams of mighty anger and rage
rend the Island’s balmy air

Clashes of swords and spears
of shields of cockles and cowries
the thunder of the tribal war
rang through the mountains
over the Aeries
and the valleys
seafarers’ swords that night did claim
full dozens slaves did they chained
towards the floating boats they pulled
the new slaves with eyes bloody
to hold on to their clan’s pride
slain never slaves

from the mountain watched  the rest
hair blown by thundering wind and gales
stand they silent as their fellow warriors
whose throat willing to be slit
than to wear a foreign band
from beyond the sunset
the shaman chanted
incantations
of appeasement
of intervention
by ancient gods

The tribal chief did scream
the warrior cry like eagles’ call
from the waves of the sea
they came, the minions of the gods
they whom the tribe worshipped
when the earth was young
and magic flourished;
thus storms of thunder light and fire
spewed from the depth, beneath
the roiling sea

Warriors of the mountains
like gazelle in the plains
in rage, their soul  ferocious
swarm down the mountains
in waves of death
by swords, machetes and spears
blood flowed freely that day
and the sand drank greedily
of the slain

When at last the battle ended
fallen warriors valiant all
on the sand they slumbered
not to wake once more
the triumphant call of the tribal horn
was heard by many
from one warrior left standing
of the mountain clan.