At night they come. They come each night.
With pointed heads and clothed in black,
They sneak through my defense with ease
And boldly launch their old attack.
They cut the wire and slither in
Like snakes upon their bellies.
They plant their packs of death unseen.
Control is theirs to take with ease.
Their tracers mark their deadly paths;
Their packs explode in shades of red.
With yells and screams that fill the air,
The dead, again, must kill the dead.
A hand that reaches out for me
Awakens me and ends the fight.
The shades retreat. They've lost again,
But they'll be back. They come each night.