Here is my piece, The Mercenary.
The MercenaryIt's heavy in hand, yet shines like the moon,
Carved on the face is some foolish old rune
A banker's number that could never show
The value of a single coin.
But coins are fickle and vanish like rain
Our flagless soldier roams the blood-drunk plain
Guns down men - once friends, now the foe -
In pursuit of a single coin.
How it gleams! In the paymaster's purse
So far - far beyond enemy lines
Men are afflicted by such a strange curse
Forever paying their boundless fines
Death for Sale! Our young Iscariot
- Questing knight-for-lease - forces chariot
Through the gunfire, onward to go
Give his life for a single coin.
Singing as it spins, dancing while flying
Not yet under the tongue of the dying.
Without Colours, by shrapnel laid low
The Mercenary tosses a single coin.