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Seeping through the morning dew
The crimson dye could not but stain
A thousand blades of faithful grass
Which bent and broke beneath the slain.
This graveyard was a battlefield
Where Chaos reigned, and Fear was Lord.
The pallet was New Orleans soil,
The paintbrush was a sanguine sword.
Their canvas was a freedom flag
A timeless mark of liberty
A badge which fueled their brave assault
But left them dead instead of free.
Though littered with the hue of death
Were red and blue and righteous white
Cheers of victory would veil
The horrors of a needless fight
The British called a yield; but for
The wasted lives of loyal men
News of triumph came too late-
The painters would not paint again.
The crimson dye could not but stain
A thousand blades of faithful grass
Which bent and broke beneath the slain.
This graveyard was a battlefield
Where Chaos reigned, and Fear was Lord.
The pallet was New Orleans soil,
The paintbrush was a sanguine sword.
Their canvas was a freedom flag
A timeless mark of liberty
A badge which fueled their brave assault
But left them dead instead of free.
Though littered with the hue of death
Were red and blue and righteous white
Cheers of victory would veil
The horrors of a needless fight
The British called a yield; but for
The wasted lives of loyal men
News of triumph came too late-
The painters would not paint again.
The idea was definitely to that effect- “the senselessness of war,” but it was also literally a needless battle. The war was already over when it was fought, but word didn't reach the field until the lives had already been lost. About the word, “copper”- when I wrote this, I was not referring to the material with which any swords that were used would have been made, (which consisted mostly of iron,) but to the sword's color. I believe the iron underneath of bloodstain would have resulted in a copper hue, and since the poem intertwines the nature of war with art, I decided to use this adjective to describe the sword. Thanks for your input! 
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