Chevaleresse

Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey
On they fight, for they're right
Yes, but who's to say?
For a hill, men would kill
Why? They do not know
Stiffened wounds test their pride
Men of five still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain that they surely know