The Unforgiving Battlefield

I remember that dark dreary day,
when thunder crashed and lightning flashed
on the cold empty battlefield
where many dead soldiers still lay

I remember a young little girl,
as she ran with a tear-stricken face
to thirteen of the corpses on the ground
each dressed in expensive silks and lace

I remember when she trembled and cried
true tears of sorrow and despair
as she kneeled and desperately tried
to keep the tears from coming

Then she murmured a promise,
one filled with burning passion,
a desire to fight and avenge
a promise changing her fashion

Many lonely nights after,
she was clad in simple combat gear
and sat with the northern emperor
in awe but also slight fear

Day and night, night and day,
she trained without hesitation
becoming stronger each time
eager to repay the eastern nation

Ten years later
when she was roughly twenty
she left the old-aged emperor
knowing she was stronger and cleverer

She raged against the nation in the east,
murdering her clan's killers
leading her down a path of death
transforming her into a tyrannical beast

Every day and every night,
she murdered around fifty-thousand men,
blinded by the flaming wrath
she killed over and over again

She was like the Pied Piper of Hamelin
but many millennia before
playing a flute instead of a pipe
a song that made you fall to the floor

For once you've heard her song
it is far too late to hide
for it may seem you are in paradise
but truth be told, you have already died

About five years later
she lived in tranquillity but not peace
yet she was called once again
to fight a new nation in the east

Once more she went to fight
once more she played
once more on the unforgiving battlefield,
once more betrayed

I remember when I saw her die
stabbed in the back by her own child
and even though she was enraged,
her face lit up and smiled

Her soul was stained pitch black
the worst colour of all
one meaning inevitable death
one meaning your downfall

So never kill to avenge
as the only result you have
is innocent blood on your hands
and your own death in the end

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Hope you like though it was written by me when i was eleven. I have always been the youngest of the year. I am still proud of this work though and i just want to put it there because i'm tired of writing but nobody telling me what i could do better. I guess it is my fault because i don't let them see what i write. This however was for a school project so the teacher had to read it but i let nobody else see it apart from my parents. I'm scared to show my friends because i know them. If you get negative comments from people across the world you don't know, i prefer that than having people i know say i am terrible. I'm a coward in that sense but i just want to have fun and this is fun for me: posting my work.