Our foes languish by our feet
For their obstinacy erased every thought of retreat
On and on they kept coming in a huge fleet
Our gallant soldiers they were ever ready to meet
Swords dangled and clanged in mid-air
These fools failed to reckon they were in the lions’ lair
Screams of hurt and pain as sharp edges caused deep wounds
Their blood oozed with every bite from our wild hounds
Now their stubbornness vanish like the fading harmattan
Their surviving cowards take to their heels and ran
Their plan for battle was archaic and vintage
Plus, we were heavily favored by territorial advantage
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