War Cry

I am a soldier, tearing through battle. I used to fight so well, defending rights, but now I'm tired. Weak. Battered. Bloodied. I've got multiple open wounds, and they're all bleeding black. I stomp through the rain with the rest of the army, all the troops crazed and beaten, bleeding and mentally screwed. We all know that none of us will be the same coming off of this battlefield. We all clutch out rifles to our chests, the only things we trust; the only things we have left to protect.