Battle-Chasers

If you want peace, understand war.

We follow the Reaper during red years of slaughter,

wading in blood as he scythes through the masses,

carnage incomparable gouged from human souls.

We are not innocents abroad in a world no longer innocent.

We see the tattered uniforms waver in whistling winds,

feel the cold lifeless blood covering the living metal weapons,

hear the grievous wounds oozing words in pleading letters.

We keep the echoes of their thoughts,

the vision of their chivalry.

We have no more dreams.

We are Battle-Chasers.