Forgotten Battlefield

Atop a far-off cliff remains
A suit of armor, bronze and gold.
And scattered 'round the foul terrain:
A field of blades, their tales untold.
As grains in glass flow to the past,
The wind blows on, the sand blows by.
Each passing day much like the last.
While sun and stars dance in the sky.
Each blade a marker where they fell.
What fought they for, what wrong to right?
Each name long lost. Each cause as well.
Naught else remains, save this lone knight.
The victor he, triumphant will
Alone, always. He lies there, still.