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The Battle
Rattle … Rattle … Rattle …
That is the sound we make just before battle
I will sit on my clean and pristine saddle
And lead us into brutal battle
On my brave, yet hostile horse
And defeat the source of our pain
And remorse all our selfish gains
As we march we are defenseless animals giving ourselves away to the meadow
And to only see our ungodly shadow
Rattle … Rattle … Rattle …
That is the sound we make during battle
The sounds of screams and terror feel my head
And the unbroken sight of blood fills my brain instead
Thoughts of love fill the blow I have taken
As I crawl to the ground bellow, so shaken
I lay there blood seeping through
I don’t seem to be coming to
Rattle … Rattle … Rattle …
That is the victorious sound they make after the battle
