The sound of the drill poises us for the mission
An inhumane laughter, maniacal at best
Explosions fading in the backdrop
A mind focused on a primary target
Quickened to the touch.
There isn’t time to talk or to count our dead.
We have only the recourse to see it through
Poised to strike
covered in blood and sweat
There is no time for tears.
The will to survive is the whole of the law.
Or else a sacrifice to submission will we ever be.
On this field none cry for peace
They realize without war, peace cannot exist
The only true equality shall come
when dead we have all become.