Over the Hills

Found a very old poem of mine, thought to post it here.

Over the Hills
Over the hills and far away,
I march to meet my end.
The arena of battle is my destination,
to the field of death I am sent.
I have no one waiting for me at home,
I have no one who loves me worrying.
Since there is nothing for me in this world,
I have nothing to live on for.
In this battle to which I march,
I will care not for Old Grim's smile.
Over the hills and far away,
I embrace my bitter destiny.


This work by Ronald Mina is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.