When they call for War,they don’t just call for peace corps

and surely there is no amour.

For isn’t War when love

can no longer find the way?

But let there be warning for you:

You don’t just get Ares, God of War and Might

when you go to War.

You get the twins, Terror and Horror,

for Deimos and Phobos are his Children,

and wars and bombs come with their ilk.

You get his sisters and companions,

Eris a tsunami of Discord,

Enyo, a maelstrom of Bloodshed and Violence.

Never let us forget the demons,

who laugh among the slaughter,

and bodies are food for monsters.

We must not forget the children of Pestilence

or the scourge of carrion birds,

or the other minor spirits who ride to war,

feeding on the breath of Man and God.

There is no room for softness,

there is only room for calmness,

no hasty decisions must be made,

except in the din of battle.

Don’t mince your words,

for War has not any politeness to it,

for why mince words with a dead enemy,

Ares could inform you of this.

Don’t go to war thinking you’ll be spotless,

for War is rough and raw, much like Ares himself.


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