The Muse

Too long it's been since last we met
That beautiful muse and I
Who brought the gift of verse and rhyme
Which for a year I thought did die
To tell tale of another time
That in eternal words she'll set

Found again in such strange estate
As the place men train for war
Voice of life, and love, and all
She whispers what might be in store
Following life's each rise and fall
In accordance to man's fate

Adieu, adieu, fair lover's thought
And life of simple ease
A host of men does make its way
Across the foreign seas
To do what gentler folk but say
As the war must still be fought.