Midst the flickering candles and prayers galore,
Midst the captured war trophies and campfires of peace,
Lived the book-loving kids who knew little of war,
Who were languishing with minor woes and defeats.

Kids are vexed by their age
And their daily routine.
We were fighting with rage,
We were slow to forgive.

But our mothers were mending
our clothing in time,
And we gulped the book endings,
Still high on the lines.

Hair was stuck to the foreheads perspiring with sweat,
The descriptions of fight made our hearts skip a beat,
We were holding our breath over phrases we read,
Their sweet essence escaping the yellowish sheets.

Without knowledge of war,
We were trying to learn
The mysterious lore
Of the chariot’s turns.

Through the clanking of hooves,
We were trying to track
Borders, orders and moves
Of the armies attacked.

And the cauldrons were boiling with battles and strifes,
Giving plenty of food for our juvenile brains!
For the roles of deserters, iscariots, spies
We appointed our rivals in early days games.

Seeking villains and fame
We would throw down the glove,
And the prettiest dames
We all promised to love.

We respected our neighbors,
Encouraged our friends,
And the roles of true heroes
We gave to ourselves.

But you cannot escape in your dreamland instead,
For the age of fun games is incredibly brief!
You should try to unclench the cold palms of the dead,
Take the weapon that fell from the hands that grew stiff.

While this sword is still warm
You should try so set forth,
Then you quickly will learn
What it’s worth, what it’s worth!

Find out if you’re a man
Or a coward inside,
See yourself if you can
Taste the actual fight.

You’ll be howling from grief once you taste your first loss,
When you’ll notice the wounds that were dealt to your friend,
And you will come apart at the seams from remorse,
For it’s he who got killed and not you in the end.

You will know, you will learn,
Feel it under your skin;
Grinning vizors will tell:
This is Death’s ugly grin!

Evil lies - keep in mind
Their detestable scowls!
They are leaving behind
Only coffins and crows.

If the sword of your father you’ve used against foes,
If you’ve had enough reasons to grow a thick hide,
If you’ve learned in the battle what really of worth,
Then for sure you have read the right books as a child!

But if you’ve never eaten
A bite of a knife,
If your days are repeating,
You’ve wasted your life,

If you never have fought
Either hangmen or thieves,
Then you’ve lived all for naught,
By all means, by all means!