The Commander

My countenance gleams on my impetuous sword
and I look back and seize,
as hatred and contempt fills my each word.
Steeling my shoulders, so that they do not tremble.
Behold! Men, we will not stumble.

Not today for there might never be a tomorrow.
We live to fight and not live to die.
Brace yourself with no sorrow.
I foresee our triumph in my eye.

Let the sounds of agony whisper in your ear.
Rush your memories back,
And tell me what do you hear?
Do not ever pray for mercy
for your soul will not rest in peace then.

May gory pulsate heroism in your heart.
Get rid of any lurking fear.
Feel your blood flowing in your veins.
Let your eyes speak of the grit.

Tell my lover,
that I loved like no ever could.
My coldness was my weakness.
But beneath my armor still lies a tenderness
which will never die even if I close my eyes today.

Ask my mother,
not to shed a tear.
My grave will yearn for her forever.
Make her feel proud that her son wasn’t killed
by an unfair arrow shot at his back,
but by another son who obeyed all laws of warfare.
My deathbed be decorated with glory instead of vengeance.

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