Dying Fetus

Valor they instill to face certain death in conflict
Win the war through discipline, trained to follow orders
Dilettantes of war, torn apart
Send them all to be slaughtered, standard training set
In a dark, distant, foreign shithole, wretched torment
Approaching the vile sphere of contention, breathing the smoke, the dust
Blood-soaked earth, stained red oceans, four your insides
Sudden hail, gunfire, half the men drop dead
Troops lost in transport, waste of lives
Terrified grunts die confused
Send them all to be slaughtered
Insufficient base munitions
Compelled by force to fight until death
Certain causualty, amateurs who all die before they learn to fight
Ruthless commanders order them to rush upon their imminent, abrupt ends
Strategy of attrition, mobbing them, flailing corpses use up ammunition
Bravery cut in half by enemy artillery, or cowardice punished by friendly
fire
Charge ahead, expending divisions
Impotence, gaining no ground
Bodies thrown, conduct in war, useless
Primitive, only two ways home