The first in line falls
His armor shredded
Legs nearly snapped
So stands the second
Ready and waiting
To pick up his spear
And move forward
But he hesitates
Looks down
Sees the fate awaiting him
The second turns away
His back to the invasion
The second flees
His home awaits
With verdant green
But his back is struck
A solidly-thrown spear
Protrudes, shaft hums
As so it always goes
The second falls
His armor shredded
Legs nearly snapped
But at least he dreamed
Of home
Poetry Overdose 