Cold Steel  

As I stand in the fore of five thousand young men,

Upon the fields of battle I stand again and again,

After all the wars after all the years,

The waiting time, is the time, that every man fears.

The people we fight stand fifty yards away,

Fifty yards is not far, not far for this day,

I can hear the silience from both of the lines,

The silence is grim it means it's near fighting time.

Then with a roar and a charge our enemy advances,

Men stiffen their spines and guess at their chances,

Then in slow motion the two sides colide,

Swords thrashing at flesh, injured men their shield at their side.

Some men hang back and let the others rush to their fate,

Each dispising their own cowardice but are so scared they wait,

But in the bloody battle they don't have to wait long,

They are hacked to the ground by those who are strong.

The minutes seem like hours and so on it goes,

There are endless lines with unstoppable foes,

The colours of our flag can be seen through the masses,

And slowly, very slowly the killing time passes.

As the crouds thin out there are few still standing,

Are they friends or are they foe amassing and banding,

It's so hard to tell with all the mud, blood and the gore,

I've had egnough, I'm tired, I can stand nor fight anyone no more.

So I will sit on the ground and hang down my head,

I will wait amoung the corpses the dying, the dead,

When the victors come around to finish the job,

Then I will find out who won, and was it our mob?