The Last March

Our soilders are marching in the street with demons dancing at there feet; Mision bells ring out a cry, As soilders lye in thier path and die. Conchesness is fading in and out as he trys understanding what all this war's is about. A million miles away, or so it seems ; A mother wakes up troubled with fear, T'was gun shots she heard or another nightmere? Unable to sleep she runs down stairs, A knock at the door, The mother falls to her knews and starts to cry; Dear god how could you ? Only sixteen and hardly a man, Are we fighting till our death, over pride? CLEAR; CLEAR okay one last time ; CLEAR!!!!! Sorry mamm there's nothing more we can do..... Soilders marching in the streets, Demons of death are at they're feet.