Blood Stained Swords Cut Through The Sky,
Silver Blades Reflecting Off The Noonday Sun,
Behind The Horses A Fire Blazes Tall And Lean,
Striking The Pure Air With Thick Black Smoke,
Deeper And Darker Than Any Nighttime Sky,
Arrows Perch Upon Every Arch Of A Wooden Bow,
Thin Feathered Tails Stand Like Stone In The Breeze,
Flags Raised Along With Hundreds Of Spears,
Mallets Grasped In Ghostly White Knuckles,
And Twisted Smiles Form--Ready For Victory,
Thin And Measured Breaths The Men Do Take,
They Say They Stand For Their Freedom,
Though A Blood Bath Means Nothing In A Barren World,
Such As This One They Prowled For Lesser Years,
Grasping Everything In Their Disgusting Rage,
Lives Included,
Souls Deluded,
Eyes Pale And Blue As A Withered Corn Flower,
The Whiter Part--Yellowish And Tinted With Tears,
Salt Dripping Down Their Cheeks Forming In Suns,
Armour Glistening As Shields Are Set Into Place,
Scowls Slithering Through Their Metal Masks,
Staring Down The Enemy,
War Paint Trickles Down Their Arms,
Tears Mirror Them As They Stream Down Their Faces,
All They Wanted Is Change