The Reaper danced a most valiant dance,
Around the dead bodies, a most ghoulish stance.
All dripping from head to toe,
The bodies lay there in the sheet of snow.
There are no survivors, for you could see.
That war is the cruelest reality.
The first few that had been laid to waste,
were given the foulest of life to taste.
Oh, but in this gruesome show of fate,
The Reaper had a magnificent date.
He and War get along so often,
that even she helps him nail the coffins.
And as they dance together as one,
Across the battle field nobody has won.
They collect the lives of many in vain.
In this waltz of terror the two conceive of Pain.
And yet another child and his mother starve again.