BrokenEchoes

  We field commanders are due at to meet in one month’s time There is a summit to share news, wins and losses To form and adjust strategies I have little to report My small, distant land is poor Our warriors are weak or old or both We don’t have the helms, swords, or shields we need We don’t have the skills to craft them, or gold to buy them. These are strong loyal men Who will defend this land to their last breath But many have never held a weapon And none have been trained I myself am a cook I’m meant to feed men, not lead them I fell into this commander role  At the death of my predecessor I’ve been stumbling ever since I am the commander of these troops I put on a face of calm strength Of confidence and impending victory At the summit, I am the least of many The commander of a tiny remote territory Ignored or forgotten Along with my homeland Along with my people I am failing them I don’t have the skills or knowledge I need There is no one to pass this burden to We will los...

  They have put him in a humid room With white walls and uncomfortable chairs He is alone now, but that will change A new face will enter, and the questions will begin The questions won’t matter The answers won’t matter The words never matter in situations like these But they will develop a pattern between them Back and forth, to and fro, give and take, attack and parry They will smile as they chat There will be the illusion of trustworthiness And the pretence of trust But no one will be fooled In the end it will be an empty conversation In an empty room There will be no impact Everyone’s mind was made up already The decision firm before they entered the room This is what happens I have seen it unfold just this way Countless times in countless rooms I still can’t tell if they put on this show For each other, or for themselves.