Sweat pours down bodies in streams,

Blood is caked between the toes of feet,

Of the men chosen for honor redeemed.

Swords doused in red ink,

Shields reflecting the suns gleam,

Cry out your call,

For honor yet redeemed.

Men are not men,

Unless a call of arms is made,

Between their brethren,

Honor clothed like capes on them,

Of the men chosen for honor redeemed.

By the Gods they are declared heroes,

Men of men,

Escapees of the sepulchers of Death,

For honor they are deemed,

Worthy.