Fields of Pride

He opens his eyes, sweating, breathing, its sunny, he feels the slight cool wind blowing on his face, he closes his eyes again. His comrades are ready, ready to be heroes, martyrs, legends, they do not fear, for to fear is to hide in cowardice and they know it.

He opens his eyes again, looks at his horse, his companion, his friend, removes his katana, very carefully, like as if it were a precious ornament.

The wind is blowing slightly harder than before, the sky is turning gray.He smells the grass, smells the air, maybe the last things he will ever smell, takes a deep breath.

They all get low, get their horses ready, their katanas are out, ready, ready to feel flesh, to feel blood soaked. A mist appears, hiding them from their enemies, they shout a last battle cry and charge.

Adrenaline, adrenaline rush, no fear, a charge, a current, a power, filling their bodies as they head towards their enemies, their destiny, unknown.

The mist intesifies.

Their armor, gray, worn out, from all the countless battles they all fought together. They still charge, their eyes, only on the enemy, they know they might not see their loved ones, they know their fate.

The enemy, get their guns ready, loaded, stanced, all 100 of them, the mist is strong.
They wait, in fear, in irritation, holding wood and steel.

The mist fades, dissappearing, they start appearing, all 12 of them, their horses galloping, their weapons out, in pride.

His eyes, filled with rage, filled with protection, filled with pride, along with the eyes of his men, they all nearing the enemy.

The enemy, they see them through the fog, appearing like ghosts out of the white, the sky, giving a death-like feeling, it starts to pour, they take aim.

The 12 warriors charge, this time with all their might, galloping faster, faster, adrenaline,adrenaline rush, life flashing before their very eyes,

they were young, care-free, they all, together, the best of friends, playing, singing, camping....

adrenaline rush, adrenaline rush...time stops..

The enemy, they stare, cold eyes, aiming, drops of water, dark atmosphere.
The warriors, they glare, eyes of pride, ready, drops of water, the atmosphere.
The grass, so green, a carpet of green, some leaves flying.
The wind, cold, zephyr, light, calming.

He closes his eyes once again, and opens it.....


- Brandon