Uncomforable
Victories phyrric

Position is calm
Until it isn’t

When bearings fly
By automatic fire

Running through mud
And plastic

With boots and
Cleet

It’s tense and
Bleak

Surrounded
With no retreat

Then silence
Falls

Muscles relax
And we speedload

What time we have
We can’t be sure

Waiting or
Flanking

Crouched and
Listening

For a footstep
By the opposition

Quietly
Uncomfortably

Our gear is
Heavy

Movement is
Slow

Right now it’s
Still

And tense
Covered yet clear

Our position is calm
But it won’t be

That way
For very long