On the battlefield.

Backstage, makeup, the fame: Oh!
Cash, charms, those expensive clothes.
It is one perfect world for us: Yes indeed.
All shrouded in what looks like pure fantasy.

Then one day something unusual came.
A letter it seems: Why, ah such a shame.
People do not get these things: No, never.
Words stealing the heart, forever and ever.

All of a sudden we found ourselves clothed.
In same clothing, physiques climbing ropes.
It is called a uniform and it has many uses.
Hide in jungles or to prevent enemy abuses.
We don’t want the soldier’s clothing, you see.
We want to go back to fame, so just let us be.
But at many times, wishes do not come true.
And knowing this makes us feel really blue.

Then something hits us but we do not know.
Our skins feel painful by the minute it grows.
We then learned it was weapons which struck.
Heartlessly for fast enough we did not duck.

As blood blindly bled from our bodies we became numb.
That is when we understood ourselves were purely dumb.
We had the eyes of prideful gods and not human beings.
We then put our guns together and shot the last enemies.
Not long later they were dead, the devils inside this terrain.
The last drop of blood leached and then we were drained.

Do not mourn for us as we hold no trophies of fame.
Being inside fame is like playing an amusing game.
Time passes, it hypnotizes people and they change.
Into whatever that spell casts and they have fame.

The time comes, people awake from those fantasies.
And they are passing, that is when they see reality.
On the battlefield of life, just who is the friend or foe?
We must differentiate, or everything simply is woe!