"Battle-Cry"
by Colin
We are twenty against hundreds,
In someone else's bloody war,
We know not why we're fighting
Or what we're dying for.
They will storm us in the morning,
When the sunlight turns the sky,
Death is waiting for his dance now,
Fate has sentenced us to die.
The captain, he lay bleeding,
And I can hear him calling me,
"These men are yours for leading,
show them to their destiny."
And as I looked up all around me,
I saw the ragged, tired, and torn,
I tell them to make ready,
'Cause we're not waiting for the morn.
The fog lay thick and heavy,
As we forge the dark and fear,
We can hear their horses breathing,
As in silence we draw near.
And there are no words to be spoken,
Just a look to say good-bye,
I draw a breath and night is broken,
As I scream our battle-cry.
