The Game

Evening sun sets down,

Leaving crimson sky behind.

The birds fly towards home,

But forgetting some ashore.

Dreaming of their home town,

Men babble all around.

Raising on hand brown,

One sighs and smiles proud.

He hunted and got scarred for life,

Thinking peace will hail profound.

Little did he know the sly game,

That war and peace play alone.