After the battle the shadows of the dead
Were hastily assembled in long columns
And ordered to march towards the disputed lands
Away from the capital where, it was felt,
Their presence might be bad for morale.
Already, shadows crowded the city's streets.
Disconcertingly, some had learned to speak
On every corner they'd be found towards dusk
Growing larger and more indistinct, preaching
Treasonous gibberish until the risen moon
Counseled discretion and they'd evanesce
Returning quietly with the morning's dew.
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