There once were two cities on a hill top
They lived together in a happy neighbourhood.
For years and years they cherished life;
With each other’s help, they prospered together.
But one day the kings had to disagree,
They were brothers but now enemies!
A distasteful quarrel had led to another
And now there laid a battlefield.
Today two strongholds with fierce eyes,
Bowed to each other with empty sighs,
As they prepared for the other to attack,
There came a distant sound of cry,
They look around themselves, confused;
The battlefield was silent,
With only the cries prevalent.
Streams of blood had shrouded their chests,
The beads of anger had now been swept.
They sheathed their swords, feeling unsure
Here they were, two kings, alive, alone
And no kingdoms to withhold,
They dropped their swords and bent their knees
Two brothers had fought and now there were only battlefields.
They looked into each other’s eyes
And cried a silent sorrowful “goodbye”
Life could never go on again without guilt on their minds.
There once were two cities on a hill top,
They lived happy together in a happy neighbourhood.
Now, the sun shines on nothing but sorrows;
There was no one to be blamed,
but the egos that the kings had borrowed.