The horn sounds
Deafening, piercing wails cry to the wind, A tremble of fear Shuddering restlessly through the soldiers below.
The time has come.
Horses whinny nervously As their masters Plunge their feet into ribcages, They start to run.
Down, down the ruddy slope, Kicking up red dust Swirling thickly in their wake. A hellish scream departs Men’s lips, soldiers cry As they suddenly realise Mayhap... they will not survive.
The horn of war stops, Replaced by the many bitter, raw Sounds Of battle.
Flesh crumples like silk. Bones crack, icy steel opens seals that should have remained.
The horn of war gazes Down on it all. Dying men, called to fight, wounded in momentary struggles against history. Just another day.