Mud and clanking, terror stinking with the sweat,
The heat is palpable on the tongue, thick and heavy,
Searing inside steel clothes that screech and clank,
Jauntily bouncing in the saddle.

Horse stamp and snort, strong flanks steaming,
Sweat dribbles into eyes, unchallenged by heavy hands,
A halt, a rest, some cheer to see the enemy,
Downhill, ghosts in the shimmering glare of the sun.

The enemy: rows and rows, banner and steel,
Officers calmly ride across the front, splendid,
Hollering discipline and threats, then slinking away,
Pitiful creatures of fear, without spine, without honour.   

I ride out, dressed like my soldiers, my men,
Here to fight and die in defense of love and life,
No need for speeches, I salute the soon dead,
The brave, the strong, my kin, they cheer me.

I life the horn to my lips and tear the fabric of peace,
As one, horse and man lift there voices in the charge,
Screaming like demons, steel bodies on four legs race,
Towards the lines of their enemies, towards death.

We cut a swath in the enemy like waves on sand,
I split skull, and hew bone, my brothers all around,
Hollering in the lust for battle that consumes us,
Driven by the blood that fuels us.

I slice and bash until I am dragged from my mount,
My enemies pounce and hammer at my throat with blunt steel,
I tear their throats out, try to stand, swinging my claymore,
Until I am overrun, drowning in a sea of glint and gore.

I miss the sun and the light of life,
But I died a warrior, stained with blood,
I died with honour, with courage in my heart,
I kneel before God, and say I lived.