The gloves are on, bootlaces tied, We're ready for the ride. The swords are shining in the light, As we ride out in the night.
The goodbyes said, the tears have flowed, As we head out on the road. There's trepidation in our heart, That feels a heavy load.
But don't look back, The fight is soon. The battle cry, Will soon be high.
For three long days the battle raged, The bodies fell to the ground. The fallen were removed at night, And placed onto a mound.
Their expectations spent.
The broken soldiers fled the scene,
From where they had been sent.
The wounded and the weary,
Returned from whenst they came.
No scenes of joy, no happy crowds,
To worship at the brave.
The village is in mourning,
For the kin who are no more.
The futility of battle,
And the pointlessness of war.