Symphony for sohram

In the valley, the rain is falling
And the gem inlaid into my syckle shines
as the blade vibrates
On the way to my destiny
I march listening the funeral melody
of the drops that echo on our armours
Guided by my nature, warriors from
the high continent, former enemies,
now fight by my side.
The caln of Dirac, now consolidated,
claims for its triumph.
When the battle comes to an end,
the rain starts falling...