Thrall - 2010/09/08

On the cold horizon so pale
Our enemies marched steadily
Steeled and ready to battle
We rode forward so readily
Dull drumbeats synchronized
Horse hooves pumping in sync
Alive with a single purpose
To brew the poison we drink
The prize is a fable far off
In a land we shall never see
Wise to just the here and now
Only failure can set us free
The enemy awaits and must die
With guns cocked we gallop on
Unaware of the terrible truth
Of the short straw we've drawn

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