I hear the distant drums over the hills
Faint an eerie from years gone past.
I see the land before unchanged by times
That men trudge upon the same spots before me.
I feel the waves of anticipation
For the coming call of arms.
I smell the smoke from ages past
That still lies now upon the silent ground.
I taste the dryness of one’s mouth
Whose hours have gone on long without water.
I hear the distant fire, the sounds crackle still loud
As the noise from past keeps ringing in my ear.


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