On mountains,on sea...on land,on air
They're carrying bags of restlessness wherever they go
Like blazing fireflies with wrath and fear
While aimimg their bayonets or guns to their foe
Every little noises,thundering to their ears
Every little things appeared as giants in their pupil
In every spills of ones blood,drowning their souls in tears
Little prayers in their pocket serves as power to survive...
..to fulfill
At night,they're thinking if they can still see the break of dawn
They don't know if they can return home alive or not
Certainties are,their loved ones are worried,waiting for them
Great heroes...but war played them...like a manipulated marionette.
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