With hearts sublime, they do take flight.

Into the darkest depths of night.

Their weapons readied, set to fire,

Their footsteps silent through the mire



The trap is sprung, the enemy caught.

And through the dismal night they fought.

Blood spattered the starry skies.

And with it poured countless lies.



The blood-red sun rose across the plains,

There were too many losses, and too little gains.

And with their hands bloodied, and their uniforms singed,

A Battle has been won--and a War now begins.



And as they left the battlefield,

The wind seemed to whisper to the remaining some;

Injustices left alone and undone--let them end you,

One. By. One.



But these words did not stir them, and not too late,

Those fearless soldiers finally met their fate.

And with their chins held high, they marched into war.

It was ****, or be killed, and nothing more.



And they were, one by one, struck down with cruel blows.

Slaughtered mercilessly, while mocked by their foes.

And as their lives ebbed away into the soil below,

They knew there was one last code left to follow.



Then the night was filled with the thrums of song,

As they hummed their last words, smiling all along.

Their words slowly faded, heartbeats gradually died,

As their spirits soared into the Heavens On High.



"I've served my faith well, and that is my relief,

I've filled the hearts of each child with belief.

And as my soul finally fades away into the skies,

I know blessed are those who believe, for indeed they shall thrive."



And the old general sat, as he'd often do.

And pondered in thought, over who had served who.

Then his eyes swelled with tears as he realized the truth.

"They died not just for their country, but for us too."



His sad red eyes closed as tears fell to the floor,

"They lost the battle, but their peace was restored."

With army cap in his lap, and a quill pen he bore,

He wrote the first tales of those brave men before: