A Leader On Losing Control

I tried my best to stop them, yes, I tried to make them wait
 And I appealed to their decency show mercy on this day
 I issued them strong orders on pain of death and disarray
 But in the end they would not listen and raised their lances anyway
 Men of no account they were, their breeding crude and low
 With not a trace of wisdom, Grace or virtue in their souls
 Yet trained them long and hard I did to bend them to the crown
 To act as tools of justice, follow edict handed down
 You see these were not militia men, a-fighting for their homes
 Nor fathers, sons nor husbands, sire, but foreigners on loan
 Mercenary killers, career soldiers to a man
 Lashing out with vengeance one cannot accept or understand
 I could not instill the discipline 'twas duty to inspire
 And they responded in the end to instincts of the basest kind
 Now on my knee before you here, I drop my eyes in shame
 Albeit little consolation take my head for I'm to blame
 O, so spoke the leader on losing control