Brotherhood,
You’ll search for it all of your life,
A feeling of belonging ;
Soldiers don’t fight and die for queen nor country, my friend;
Brotherhood is what we live for and die for:
It is the only battle cry that has stood the test of time;
For, we are pack animals forged into a tribe;
And, while I may not always agree with you, my brothers;
It is for you, and you alone, I shall willingly lay down my life.
How can you sleep when the world is screaming its deafening roar outside?
Churning, twisting its chains and lashing out;
An insomniac’s day dream,
Bearing down like a Juggernaut,
I will not be crippled by indecision,
As i’ve spent a lifetime living thus;
Professional soldiers are trained to move toward the sound of violence (like a hunter to a kill);
While untrained civilians naturally flee,
A rare few will stand their ground,
Determined to make a stand;
For night or day, battle comes when you least expect it;
Some battles are unavoidable;
When neither fight nor flight is a credible option:
For, eventually, all dangers must be faced head on.
We be cooped up in these towers, brov;
Like them pigeons that no body wants around, blood;
Rats with wings and vermin, is what they call us like,
We be pigeons, in a world in love with doves;
Choice pickings don’t make it this far down;
Violent tussles over scraps,
Till we all be slipping on spilt blood;
And, scraping the bottom of a barrel,
To make do is what we do, brov;
That’s our lot in life,
And, we ain’t got a lot.