• Carry not any your torches to war,
    Or they may burn the vests of your soldiers.
    They'll smolder and chafe like the mud in their soles
    Once rich with the life of a mineral spice,
    Now destroyed in the heat of a warhead.

    Take with you not any your hounds to war,
    Or they may bite the heels of your soldiers.
    Their cunning will falter the questioning souls
    Once rich with the fire of an ireful revenge,
    Now directed at those who deceived them.

    Ride with not any your horses to war,
    Or they may turn away with your soldiers.
    They'll toss back their heads and turn tail to their path,
    Once they spot the cannons that distantly dwell.
    Now no bolster could ever retrieve them.

    Carry not any your burdens to war,
    Or they may be the death of your soldiers.
    Their sorrows will drag them to bury their souls.
    What once was a man with less mercy than ice
    Now will rest with no slumber in his bed.