Ink Stained

Right across the frozen river they sat, Right below the hardy palm snow clad. They laughed and recollected the days gone by, The days they spent with this long gone lad. Some riots of laugh they made, Some sighs on the issues they did hate, Those sighs though were less enough, As they together met after a very long decade. Amidst those riots and sighs, They sat unaware of the incoming plight, With his wicked oar and rusted boat, The Charon approached near for his daily freight. These days his job has been hard really, As rounds doubled for the valley, With souls of innocent and guilty-old and young, All alike to be taken along. Along came a patrol of uniforms, Tired of the endless, sleepless nights, Tired of the bureaucracy above uptight, And tired of the hazy war. The custodians of the law, Suspicious of the laughing lads, Suspicious of the way they sat, Loaded their service weapons. In a few seconds next, The territory t