Most men crave the battlefield
Long-haired sweat
Naked and flexed
Wild steel
Searching for enemies
Pouncing beasts
Cobra’s fang
The rush of death
Adrenaline strength
The climax of combat
But it doesn’t come that way
Not anymore
Arteries harden
Muscles turn fat
Blades grow dull
As idiot ego
Dreams of war
Never waged
And phantom glory
Born
With grace
