Thrown together in about five minutes
There was a time, long ago
When all the world was robed in snow
and Pyrrhos of the Epeirotes - a one-man royal show
who dared to face the world, and let the Dacians know
exactly who was in command, he thought himself a God
but when the battle reached an end, his steed, all iron-shod
was eaten by the carrion birds, and he was in the sod
of Ambrakia of old, smitten by the iron rod
of Dizo per Rekidava, a Dacian of repute
Twelve thousand men for coin, six thousand more for loot
Followed him and killed with blade and blood-soaked boot
Sixty thousand Epeirotes, with arms and shields to suit
the gods themselves, Four thousand of the Hetaroi,
Their lances tipped with frost, ten thousand Pezhetaroi,
Armed with demon spear, twelve thousand Deuteroi,
Twenty thousand peltastai, spared no cost. The Indikoi,
Elephants, as in legends, towered above the fields,
And the men who wield a bow which a mountain sheperd wields,
Innumerable Taxeis, cowering behind their shields,
But despite his vast power, Pyrrhos finally yields.
He meets the might of Dacia, where the forest's thick and deep
Like towering lions, his men charge uphill, like mice they creep
Back down again, too few, and far too few find sleep
Again, harried by the lance and sword, a nation's widows weep
Pyrrhos had launched himself, like some Antiochus
Into the thick of battle, amidst the fuss
He caught a fatal blow, the unruly cuss
Of a falx which tore him to the bone
And from his horse, alone
The might of Greece died in his mountains
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