Photo Credit: Pixabay.com

The Battles of Men

The master calls his army

To a battle on the field

Marching beasts of burden

No living man can make them yield

They can hear the distant thunder

As silent prayers float toward the clouds

The men who hold the front line

Fall but they never cry out loud

The heavy rain is a welcome friend

Caressing every muddy face

For some it will be the very thing

That floods their resting place

For those that live to tell the tale

Their scars worn with weary pride

Will talk of a battle’s glory

How they gave death a hellacious ride

And for every fallen brother

They ask forgiveness for their sins

Speak each man’s name in reverence

Who gave their lives so they might live

They’ll hold high their swords in unison

A battle braved for all the lost

Knowing hell will be…