The orange furnace peeks over the dune once again
above this land composed of but drought and sand.
Where no one about can be deemed a friend,
where the whole world is sere desiccated and bland
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

Sweat runs and drips from my brow and red nose
replacing night's cold and unrelenting shivvers.
Now sweat stains spread out on dusty camp clothes
while eyes grow tired of wavering heat shimmers.
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

No way to discern who is the enemy
for they wear just their robes and no uniform
indeed the enemy might look like me
in this war that surpasses any type of norm.
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

This town is but rubble where houses once stood
reduced to such by the shells of both warring sides
in this battle between the evil and good.
What mayhem beneath these ruins abides?
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

From afar we came hoping to finally bring peace
to free these people from insane savage men
perhaps even give wounded children surcease
and remind them of what for them might have been.
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

We brought them freedom and paid a stern price.
They took then used it to kill one another.
For them it seems tolerance must be a vice.
They've their own beliefs and hate every other.
and red blood tints these shifting sands.

So here I stand alone guarding the gate
while outside the savages torture and kill
with twisted religion turned false by hate,
i long for cool forests but remain here still.
and red blood still tints these shifting sands,

Too many, my comrades have given their all
trying to civilize men turned to beasts
who seem to just answer to blood lust's call.
I pray for the day when my duty is ceased.
and red blood no longer flows upon these shifting sands.