You stand atop a hill looking upon the field,
Feeling as if you cannot fathom what is to come.
Blood stains the dirt,
The grass torn from the countless charges of men,
Bodies piled as high as the hill he stands.
But a peace comes upon you suddenly,
You don’t realize an arrow has pierced your armor through the heart,
You fall to your knees in a kind of slow motion,
Comrades flood toward you from all sides to protect you but it’s too late,
The blood smelling of rusted iron seeps through the armor mixing with the dust below,
As you close your eyes the one thing that comforts you is the men,
To even defend you in Death.