The low resounding beat
Made me fatigued in the heat
We had to keep our senses sharp
Our hear Death’s harp

I repositioned my gun between my knees
The metal was so hot; I felt I was being stung by bees
For hours we had been flying
My men’s fortitude, I had been admiring

My regiment was exhausted
Limp bodies banging against the fuselage

Despite the skin blackened with soot
The bloody, pulpy mass that was once my foot
The laceration oozing on my back
Despite it all, I’m ready to attack

From war-ravaged Panjshir to the Hindu Kush
The landscape has changed so much
First oppressed villages
Then exalting mountains augmenting our courage

I feel our forward velocity stop
And the feeling of the drop
We all look at each other
Grab our guns and hold back anything bitter

This time the rules have changed
They’ve struck a chord within our veins
Are brothers are just beyond that barbed-wire fence
As we sneak over, the air becomes dense