Song of Silence

No wind whispering through the trees,

No kiss of the late night's blissful breeze.

The fateful hour before the battle for our lives,

When the world stands still and we fear to die.

Some pray for honor, some pray for glory,

But most just want to get home in a hurry.

Commands lift the spirits of their frightened men,

They promise great wealth with no seen end.

They weave stories of blood shed and battle lust,

Ripped out hearts and ground splattered with guts.

Blue lipped bodies left for the wolves to eat,

The bounty of killing will leave them a great feast.

Rotting flesh, a maggot filled courpse,

It makes you happy to feel your bodies warmth.

A miraculous victory, a fallen foe,

To see your comrads slayed, you scream out in woe.

To see cruel acts you can barely endure,

What happened to the days when our hearts were pure?

For now though you wait for this violence,

In the crisp night air you feel the song of silence.

Inspired by Mr. bourdon the coolest american history teach ever.