The tiny men marched on to fight,
As the two towering brothers looked on in delight.

Who was to win? Both thought they were.
Deep down inside, the soldiers could not be sure.

The soldiers – they thought of their lives back home,
Of the women and children that were their own…

Still they marched on, and still the were watched,
The brothers getting anxious – though neither had yet ‘lost’.

And so the poor soldiers, their blood seeped into the ground,
And when they looked up, the brothers were turned quite around.

Headed on home, the brothers sure were –
For more soldiers, both felt the need to procure.

The soldiers wept, and slowly all of them died…
Their bodies lay disbursed throughout the country side.

The brothers spoke to their people of undeniable success,
And spoke of how the newly-slaughtered heroes had “died for the rest…”

They used the love and hatred to fit their enterprise,
And another batch of soldiers headed out to defend the lies.

And the brothers watched in childish delight-
As war was waged and the soldiers did fight.

To no end the battles seemed to rage,
As history was made page after page…

As mothers cried and wives despaired,
As children slept, while terribly scared.

And the brothers watched and backed the war,
The soldiers fought – though they knew not what for…

And slowly, silently, the whole world lost-
Yet none of them realized – that was the cost…

Of misunderstanding and hatred and spite…
That was the cost when the brothers decided to fight.