A Whore Called War

The bayonets glistened bright Starshell lit the darkened night Silent figures the colour chalk Said a prayer before their walk Nervous before the whistle blast Slowest, quickest, who shall last Dreams hang on barbed wire fences Many a heart has built defences Blood pumps through iced veins A darkened soul alone remains Thoughts of those that fell before The tortured mind could not ignore Over the top for King and Queen Nought before had carnage seen Cannot run as the mud it bites Perfect night for the snipers sights Young and old, names on tin Victims both of histories sin Who the bravest of them all Last one standing, first to fall Once a game played as child Now a nightmare running wild And daylight comes in full attire Shell holes, craters, broken wire For the dead that certain peace For the living there's no release Only the living of another day Constant thought what fate will say So many men die as they did before Under the spell of a whore called war