A rocky path leads the way

to the grasses

flowers decorating the fields,

And through it a river passes.

Men all sing a song of hope 

and stand proud

they are playing a game 

they are running all around 

the men’s brows are furrowed 

they want to stay standing

this game is important 

And the rules are commanding 

but the rocky path leads 

to a battlefield 

the flowers are trampled and dead 

A river of blood keeps hope concealed 

the men sing their anthem

as they point their guns with pride 

they are toying with their life 

Sweat matted, nearly dried 

they stand, apprehensive 

tears gleam in their eyes 

for death is their punishment

life is their prize