With banners flying in the wind
A thousand men were fighting still.
Mist dispersed as shadows danced
Then closed in again as the army passed.
Shadows! Shadows!
Everywhere!
Some cried out in helpless fear.
I cannot see the shape of it
The form,
The substance,
Where to hit!
They come at me with mighty force-
My mind's befuddled
My voice is hoarse
My eyes are bulging -
There's no release
There'll be no feast of victory here.
Each day they come in swirling mist
No breath,
No warmth,
Just mighty force.
Amongst the thousand
I march on -
A futile battle,
This is one.