The drums of them growing ever near,

Striking the weak and the cowardly with fear,

The sheer sharpness of their swords alone,

Are the swords cutting through skin and bone,

The sadness brought upon by those in pain,

Makes this tactic seem so very vain,

For instance,

I see in the distance,

Those being executed for their vain resistance,

I see the skulls of those who failed,

And heard the cries of those who wailed,

I know I might die,

Over that I do cry,

They are just over the sandy hills,

Now my body is filled with chills,

For instance,

I see in the distance,

Those being taken captive after another failed resistance,

This will be a bloody day,

In this middle of the day,

The deserts shall run red with blood before the day is out,

The victory I’ve seen is filled with a scream and a shout,

We shall remain firm and not fail like the rest,

For this, is the Age of Conquest.