Beasts

Back, back with the beasts that wish to trot
Over the fields of daisies and ash
Toward higher mounds of fetid rot
Where knifes help bleed through and slash.

Tame, tame the raging wretched where they stand
And push back against their four legged assault
Grab hold of their manged pelt with either hand
And, with swords drawn, wait for them to fault.

Though, though their teeth may tinge white in the moonlight
Their souls are as black as their devil dog tongues,
Take this opportunity to defend that which is right
And sing glory out to every victory bell to be rung.

Defend, defend the fields of flower and sand
From the beast and their scarlet drenched fangs.
Are you willing to die to defend your land
And look past that great noosened corpse or the way it hangs?