With a shout they will march, going off to war
As the enemy approaches in malice or anger
Leaders have hope to stem the coming storm
Drum beats accompany the march forward
Before an unaware village, upon the border
People left weak in fear, from forewarning
Some who respond, now burn for vengeance
They find it unanswered in their soul's core
Ignoring fear and the dangers warriors face
It is only the few who stand against this tide
But others will see, cowards can be brave
As a spirit of war gives them their orders
Those who fight, all through the night remain
They'll wait for the victory in the morning
“Theseus soon found himself involved in factions and
troubles; those who long had hated him had now added
to their hatred contempt; and the minds of the people
were so generally corrupted, that, instead of obeying
commands with silence, they expected to be flattered
into their duty.” Plutarch
