They hand me a gun,
A very heavy weight.
I use it so often,
It is just like my mate. 

When I patrol the battlefield,
Not a thing in my sight.
I quiver with excitement,
Or maybe it was fright. 

But there’s no going back,
That’s what I had said.
War has seeped my strength,
It has gone to my head. 

Suddenly a horse,
Followed by a cavalry.
The ground began to shake,
After that, so did a tree. 

But theirs is no going back,
That’s what I had said.
War has seeped my strength,
It has gone to my head. 

The jockey wore an arrow,
An extremely pointed spear.
The tip was tinged with blood,
As my knees knocked with fear. 

He drew back his drawstring,
A smirk on his face.
The arrow leapt forward,
As I fell to my fate.

BY RAFI GLASS