In
early morning, on desert plain,
the
armies march to fight again,
the
sun rises slowly, and the dust swirls round;
the
beads of fear show upon men's brows.
Chants
of war and heads held high;
shields
of bronze reflect battle cries.
Swords
unsheathed and spears gripped tight;
the
vultures circle; their meals in sight.
Thoughts
of loved ones safe at home;
mask
anxious dread of flesh and bone.
Commanders
give one last rousing speech,
glory
for all is within our reach.
I
parry blows, my arm numb with tired pain.
I
hold back tears for friends now slain.
The
enemy comes, but I am strong;
this
raging battle cannot last long.
Our
swords rise and fall to blazing screams,
we
cut through ranks in suns bright sheen.
With
fate unleashed, the ground stained red;
the
day retires with many dead.
So
darkness falls on desert plain,
the
heavens wash our blood away with rain.
Tomorrow
we will rise again once more;
to
make our names in life's long war.
Tomas Bird - Cherry Coal 2017
