Top of the Mountain

At the top of the mountain,

Sat a lonely man. 

Cursed to sit alone,

On his sacred land. 

For our god above, 

Trusted upon he,

The beautiful building,

Of the monastery. 

Monks had once,

Walked the grounds.

They used to love and pray,

Until their souls were found. 

It was a holy ground,

Such a lovely thing,

Where the sun would shine,

And the birds would sing.

But then something changed,

It created a war.

The monks were fighting,

And the birds sung no more.

What had happened?

For good souls to fight?

For it was not like them,

Not like them to fight. 

But at the top of the mountain,

Where the lonely man sat. 

He realised that they were humans,

And humans did that.