On the battlefield
There is no remorse,
For the men in uniform,
Riding on horse.
They yell out orders,
Send you to die,
Not one thing of pity
Shown in their eye.
Is it for country?
Is it for fame?
When the man on the horse
Knows not even your name.
To hell with your orders!
I'm done with your games!
I told the man on the horse,
Who knew not my name.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment