The sound of silver trumpets in the distance.
A wave of fresh air washing over me.
Yet stars shine down on me,
From a velvet dome above the earth.
I look down now, back to what is real.
The pain is unbearable, I do not shout out.
I was taught to know that death would come…
On all warriors who fight bravely….with honour.
Bravery. It’s a strange word.
Even the most courageous of fighters
Can be the weakest one.
A world of death.
Run! I try desperately to shout at them,
But they run forward,
Hoping to help, now only being taken.
Out of my grasp, away from my sight.
It is over now. I can feel my eyes closing.
Darkness is all around me…
But wait, she walks towards me and takes my hand.
“All is not over, my son.”
I am gone. Like a flower when winter comes.
Hot tears fall on my brow, my soul is leaving my body.
What bravery will I be remembered for?
What honour should I receive for my deeds?
I am gone…
Forget me not.