The stench of sweat mixed with farm town hay.
The sight of the sky, wretched and black,
Told the tale of the men who would never come back.
The field had lay virgin,
No soldiers had trod,
But the shield felt so urgent,
Though vague, it was odd.
Steeped in hatred were they,
Their swords at their sides,
As they pushed on their way,
Sad for them came their ides.
Their lives they had given,
Their souls were now riven,
They perished in vain,
Called to war, oh for shame.
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