Walking over the village of ash,
we look around over the blazing sun,
nothing at all remains except the charred bones of the enemy,
my feet step on a skull my steel boot crushing it into two,
I stop and so does my army as I heard it the signal for fire,
others from the neighboring village have come seeking revenge,
a rain of arrows pierce the sky.

Those of my men who were smart hide,
me I stood there with my arms held like a cross,
a shield  does not hide or flee,
though before even a single arrow hit the ground she had pulled me into a house,
I try to escape her clutch once I hear those arrows hit their mark,
no matter how hard I struggle she will not let me go.

Soon my men will do as normally told they would put their helmets on and reap souls,
when I leave the house with her I see my numbers have lost greatly,
now the number of soldiers left dwindled down to 100 including me,
my men look to me for what we do next,
I say get the catapults ready for each man we lost they shall lose 20.

I stand over the village venom in my mind,
my men fire on the farmlands and the village,
they messed with the capital now they shall feel its sting,
for now for every loss I counted the screams.

I'm their commander and their shield,
though what I forgot to realize is even a shield can break,
I only expected one loss for the journey.

Now I see in war to save all my men is impossible,
but when she puts her hand on my shoulder I know now I too have something to lose.

This is but our first loss.