Still and quiet,
I gaze up at the fist,
Kneeling in the stained battleground,
Praying for the strength of the will,
In the distance, their army.

Lightning flashes,
I lower my head,
Kneeling in blood and muck,
The rain slapping me down,
In the distance, their army.

Strained eyes,
I peer through the dark,
Kneeling in our past victory,
the fist towering proudly,
Here they come, their army.

Surrounded now,
I bite my lip,
Kneeling in my defeat,
Swords scream as they are unsheithed,
Arrived now, their army.

Standing now,
I cease my prayers,
Standing alone
And as the cold steel slides into my core I give a bloodied smile,
For in the distance, our army.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Aeguary, in the year 278 AF.