Empty Shell - Into the Moat

We shall dread the forthcoming

Every seconds sears me

As my anticipation drips

Stepping back to where it started

Grasping my first weapon

As a protector

Wearing my armor

Swollen with pride

Having the initiative

Without insight

Training will be an aid

And debriefing ensues

Intelligence will serve us well

But nothing could ever truly prepare

This is what we dread

Strategy ripped from my mind in cold blood

Replaced with mere survival

What have I become

But I have not yet begun to fight

And I will not be deterred