I stand in the line up
A heavy sword in my hand
I'm being told by my superior
That we're what's considered
The best in land

Over the plains
We see the enemy line
My hearts starts to pound
But my companions
Tell me I'll be just fine

We're ordered to march
I do as I'm told
I am so scared to be here
Among the young
And the old

We've started to charge
The enemy stands strong
The adrenaline is pumping
I'm starting to feel
This isn't where I belong

We're less than a few feet
And I can hear voices raised
As our swords start to clash
Soldiers hit the floor
And I wish I wasn't fazed

Men scream around me
As I strike down a foe
And I'm now fighting for survival
Not paying attention
To the blood on the floor which continues to grow

I look to the eyes
Of the ones I am killing
I thought maybe
This sort of life
Would be more fulfilling

I know I was wrong
I realize the mistake
Of coming here in the first place
I now want to leave
But now it's too late

I feel a sudden pain
Into my back
I hit the floor
Now knowing
Soon it will be life that I lack

I feel myself start to die
As the battle does not stop
I now know
It was a stupid
To have left the crop

I am looking into the open eyes
Of a man who was dead
If his eyes were shut
It may have looked like
He was in bed

But I know he is dead
So I try look at the floor
All of this silence
Gives me my last thought
What was it, that we were fighting for?

By Robert Hegan (February 27, 2004)