the end of a dark campaign the amputation

Oh, Sleeper

I ve been hit! Oh My God! Oh My God!
The ground burst and cold soaks my shirt. Send word!
The clarit river forms at my boots
With a flash and rain of dirt
I ve been met for the hundredth time
Call the medic. This wounds meant to cripple! RUN!
The red crest on his head
And a choice off his lips
He sat never once phased. He,
While I m open and spilling!
Am I a sheep for the slaughter?
Am I JUST a sheep for the slaughter?
No no, please no, help me!
Oh Death, must you reap one more?
Medic! I ve been hit! Oh my God! Oh my God!
The ground burst and cold soaks my shirt. Send word!
The clarit river forms and pools over my head
And for a moment I m submerged in the lake,
And a sparks birth could not be heard.
All night the thunder of war raged
And it finally seemed as if I had met the eye.
With fights more lost than won I walk away with one trophy
A thousand scars on my own chest
Only to realize nowhere else was I hit.
But then with your grip gloved by mercy
I was wrenched back to the storm!
Lay dead or charge the line! Another patch wont do!
Cut it from my chest, and begin this run