i wanted to die facing the sun; to see the last of darkness squirm under suns rays and cower behind clouds of shadows. i wanted to see clarity seep into my eyelids and make me feel as if all of this fighting had been for a cause.
but i wanted to see you as well; eyes pricked with tears, silently applauding my courageous efforts; proud for once because i set it all right.
but that did not happen: i died watching night eat day alive, seeing men cower, not triumph. my last breath was short lived; a croaky, dust filled breath that not even the closest ear could catch.
many heroes would rise and fall after my end, but i would like to think that my age was the one with the thickest blood; swords would raise for me, hearts would stop for the cause.
soil will be forever trampled under our wake, and not even achilles could defeat us.
