The Warriors

When the alarms struck high,

we knew we could not fly,

when the drums were beating,

never was our courage fleeting,

while flares and shells went arching.

underneath, we were marching,

against machine gun spray and rifle rattle,

we charged forth into fiery battle,

against the foe from dusk till dawn,

and so suddenly many friends were gone,

yet drawing breath, on we went,

even after our cartridges were spent,

it came down to blades and bayonet thrusts,

soon we became like a wind at gust;

eventually we saw the sun,

although we weren’t sure if we lost or won,

but as we lit our last cigarettes

and pondered triumphs and regrets,

we spared no cares for this nether,

for we had fought it all together;

however war is misbegotten,

we knew we wouldn’t be forgotten,

least of all by our brothers,

whom we loved like no others.