The squeak and grind
Of metal plate scratching
The squeal and cries
Of sword across pavement
Marching out of time
Spirits and war calls beckon
Unarmored and unarmed am I
They are coming for my eyes
Seen too much--not always what wanted
Left by all to stand alone
I will not hide I will not plead
Damn sure they will bleed

3 old applause
