Battlefields

And Fight

Bloody battlefields and
Dead mechanical hands
Spooky confused eyes
Looking up at the skies
Dark, darker, darkest
The cloud that was the closest
Or was it the smoke
Lurking to choke
All of us
All of us
But when in the centre
People chasing a venture
To protect and run
Till someone has won
If not holding the flambeau
You will file in a row
And when you see the enemy
You will be the first in many
Just like me, to shoot down
The enemy’s plane
And fight
And fight