cannon fodder

our scorched and torn banner flies,
     wearily marches forward
     amidst this barren land
     littered by shattered skulls
     shaped by broken bones,
     the pungent stink of Lady Death's
     brimstone perfume filling the air,
this sword weighs heavy,
     hands too weak to carry!
     feet to tired to lift,
somehow we march forward!
we pan our eyes starboard across those
     wasted mountains,
     we peer past cinders where
     trees once lived---
in land overflowing with rice-honey
     filled with happiness and joy,
     heart fills with longing
     is this not the human thing?
     it is not for us,
we pan our eyes to port,
     in devastated plains,
     blood-wine rivers overflowing,
our dark cloaks of shadows
     we wrap to catch what little
     warmth this cold land gives,
strength summoned!
call to arms those dogs of war---
     we cry havoc!
fury--- fuel raising these tired hands,
anger--- vehicle that lifts these feet
rice-honey we hold dear
     in peace remain,
     in mind now aside,
we charge, cannon fodder!