Rewrite the below short story into a poem.

"By the time the sun reached its apogee, the field was lost. The sky glistened a brilliant blue in contrast to the crimson red that now stained the field. Countless numbers of his companions were dead, and even more of his enemies. Men with families, battle-hardened warriors who had come that day to conquer but had instead experienced the dying of the light. It was not the first time he had witnessed such a desolate place, and it would not be the last.

N/A
When the sun was high, and the field was lost,
Only then, appeared the mortal cost.
Skies blue, fields green,
Now stained deep red
Hope, dreams, and light all dead.
