Analysis of The Battles of Men

The Battles of Men

A master calls his army
To a battle on the field
Marching beasts of burden
No living man can make them yield
They cheer for the distant thunder
Prayers floating toward the clouds
Men who hold the front line
Fall, but never cry out loud
Heavy rain is a welcome friend
It cools the bloodied space
For some it is the last thing
To flood their resting place
Those that live to tell the tale
Wear their scars with weary pride
They talk of a battle's glory
When death was on the winning side
Every fallen brother
Is forgiven of their sins
Each name is spoke in reverence
As it's carried softly on the wind
Swords held high in unison
Salute to all they’ve lost
Knowing hell ends up victorious
Souls have always been the cost
So hail to those who've battled
Ten million slaughtered men
Faces of the sleeping dead
Who gave everything to win