Against the Machine

The gears of war are turning in the darkness and the day,

Can our force of flesh and courage hold the enemy at bay?

Can our zeal and inner fire stop the great machine?

For we stand a force undaunted, a vict’ry here to glean.

As they come on in formation, with their shield walls and their pikes

To crush our force of blacksmiths, farmers and their likes,

We stand as friends united and shout the freedom lay,

Every heart assured, we’ll turn their smugness to dismay.

We charge in wanton fury, each man striving for the front.

Will our might alone preserve us? Will our courage take the brunt?

We crash against their shields, fighting recklessly,

We break through into their ranks, their archers turn and flee.

With our axes and our hammers, our scythes and our swords,

Our tenacity alone lets us face the well trained hordes.

The hunters draw their bowstrings as the pikemen move to flank,

Draw knives and charge, flashing deadly through the rank.

But the machine turns the retreat, refusing yet to yield,

We fall back and surround them in the flames of burning field.

The fire makes our second charge, driven by the wind,

And we stop and lick our wounds, reviewing what we’ve gained.

The machine works to fight the fire, as it does on them flood,

But it eats on unrelenting, feeding on our blood.

The foe’s not yet defeated, the machine will come again,

And we’ll meet it over and over, as long as our zeal can.