The dead march, and the living cower,
But for a few: to the many, oathbound.
Their steel is sharp, their faces dour
Facing millions, yet no deserters are found.

The dead strike, and the living freeze.
A few hold banners, swords, axes, spears.
The day is yet theirs to seize--
Glory awaits beyond their fears.

The dead live, and the living die.
A banner flutters atop cold, grey walls.
It is seen by none.

A rolling thunder surges across the plain
Today, they say, victory awaits!
Forget the lost of yesterday, or the day before
They'll be unrecognizable in a week or less.
Tanks lead the charge, their tracks clattering
Punctuated only by the dull thud of gunfire.
The defence springs to life, firing shell after shell
One tank cooks off, then another
A spectacular light show, for a less spectacular shot.
The survivors bail, and are promptly dead
Rinsed by the product of 7.62 and 51.
Looking on in disappointment, the general calls the rest back.
Tomorrow, he says, victory awaits!

What makes you so special?
Is it your looks? Your swagger?
Maybe it really is all in my head
But I can’t help it, you’re special to me.

What makes you so special?
Is it your charm? Your character?
Maybe I’m just making excuses
But I can’t help it, you matter to me.

What makes you so special?
Is it your joy? Your warmth?
Maybe I’m drawn to it
But I can’t feel it, I’m numb nowadays.

What makes you so special?
Why’d you draw me in this way?
Maybe I shouldn’t believe the yarns that you spin
But I can’t help it, you’ve ensnared me already.

What makes you so special
To want to hurt me this way?
I just wanted to heal you. I guess I succeeded,
But it gave me more chains.

What makes you so special?
You’re not the first to use me this way.
I still want to help, how pathetic of me
But I can help you, though I can’t help myself.

What makes me so special?
Never mind, go on without me.
It might not be right
But at least you’ll be happy.