Alamort

Across copper muddy fields 
Stained with the faces 
Of people that were killed in battle 
The images of fear burn behind 
the eyes of those who are still alive 
As they march forward
They are pieces on the government's chessboard
Holding guns, covered in dirt,
What is this for? 
Both sides killing each other
Because of orders given by weak leaders 
Exhausted 
Are these young men walking
Hiding and running from the bombs
As it rains, as it snows,
There is no hope 
When the red fires continue to rage 
And those in charge continue to play games 
These young men are dead inside 
Because the hope, the determination, and the passion 
that they once possessed has died with their friends 
They thought it would only take six months 
Now it has turned into years with no answers
Whilst the two who started it
Continue to flex their ego's 
This is not a war 
But a petulant contest 
Of bravado.