Gift art for a friend  Vanillatiger

A soldier on my own, I don't know the way.
I'm riding up the heights... of shame.
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest.
I'm ready for the fight... and fate.

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head.
The thunder of the drums dictates
the rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths,
the rising of the horns... ahead.