Valhalla

The smell of blood, is in the air,
Taste of fear, upon the tongue.
Nervous hands, gripping cold steel,
Grim faces betray what they feel.

You see the smoke drift across the sky,
For the hundredth time wonder why
You are standing here,facing fire
You're just a gun for hire.

This is your chosen life
Your place is in the strife.
Ducking bullets, dodging mines,
Fighting behind enemy lines.

You're a bringer of death
Drawing your foe's last breath.
You fight another man's wars,
Giving your life and earning scars.

You feel the fear flow in your blood
As you hide in the mud.
Its the fear that keeps you alive,
You've got to kill to survive.

And when the end draws close to you,
You feel the whole world crashing down.
And you'll soon be taken to
Another place...