In battle dwelt my mind ever,
in dark visions, and nightly dreams,
and etched were images of battles past,
hordes arrayed in savage might,
the fury breaks, of battle’s play,
my veins swell with fire,
and in a frenzy of shouts and blood,
my rage surrounds me, and around,
are laid paths of mutilation,
men torn and bled,
hacked by sword and bayonet,
till this fire of fury abates,
and sanity returns with panting breath,
and I turn to survey my deeds,
on this winter’s night,
when the snow was painted red,
and a few lives were ended,
and a few lives remained,
to dwell in battle’s thought,
ever, and yet again.