Silhouettes

The early morning mists swirled in the gentle wind,
As the Sun’s first rays began to break over the eastern hill.
The camp slept in peace, unaware of the new dawn,
Dreaming of their heroism in the battle that was coming still.

As the sun rose higher, two shadows grew from the hill,
Stretching across the valley like ghosts from battles past.
From these shadows, the air was filled with a gentle hum,
As the bagpipe men played the call for the day’s breakfast.

The soldiers of the Legion below softly stirred from their dreams,
Rubbing the sleep from their eyes and stretching their tired limbs.
As they exited their tents and readied their gear to march the day’s journey,
They smiled as the bagpipe men’s shadows grew, and the air filled with a battle hymn.

The Legion ate their meals, loaded their gear, and move to formation.
The bagpipers moved to the front of the ranks, and led the march from the valley.
Soon the soldiers would test their skills in the heat of battle against their enemy,
Warriors shedding blood upon the plains, driven by the bagpipers’ melody.

Weary from fighting, and nursing the health of the injured, they made camp.
They ate a warm meal and drank ale to numb the pain in their limbs.
As their sleepy heads rested against their packs, and drew their blankets close,
The bagpipe men led the soldiers to sleep, playing a gentle hymn.

As the silhouettes of the bagpipers disappeared, making their way into camp,
The sentries smiled and nodded, letting the players walk past.
These two men and their pipes make the War tolerable for the Legion,
Reminding them these hard times would not forever last.