Into The Moat Empty Shell
We shall dread the forthcoming
Every seconds sears me
As my anticipation drips
Stepping back to where it started
Grasping my first weapon
As a protector
Wearing my armor
Swollen with pride
Having the initiative
Without insight
Training will be an aid
And debriefing ensues
Intelligence will serve us well
But nothing could ever truly prepare
This is what we dread
Strategy ripped from my mind in cold blood
Replaced with mere survival
What have I become
But I have not yet begun to fight
And I will not be deterred
