Soldier over the Horizon.

His heart is beating violently. A euphoria engulfs him, his gaze fixed upon the horizon. There they lie, a thousand men, armed, ready to charge. His muscles stiffen, his pupils dilate, his back straightens and he roars, "This is the day of reckoning. To live this day is to live the dreams of our fallen brothers. Today is the day of martyrs, for tomorrow our souls shall transcend this land and together we shall feast in heaven". 

This he says to his men with a confidence only a leader can master. For they are only a dozen beaten soldiers of war, their swords tarnished, their leather ripe, stained with the blood of their enemies and their will dwindling with every battle. They have come far and it would be a pity to surrender now. No, surrender is no option, at least not for him. 

Now his thoughts sway from the fields of battle. His daughter and beloved wife walk in front of him. A memory bestows itself into physical form. They are laughing, running in tall grass glazed with the light of a morning sun. Their cries of joy expand through his mind devouring every doubt, they shed every fear. This is why he fights, for his daughter and for his wife. He knows he can never see them again, but he must secure their lives. The enemy will not get to them and he will give anything to ensure their safety. He is willing to die today, for them. That is the love he expresses.

The setting sun glooms over the horizon. The shadow of his enemy crawls downhill, taunting him.
"For our beloved", he shouts, "for those we hold dear! May the setting sun smile upon us."
"March to death I say! March! March and die in the hands of light."
And so his battered foot steps forward, and a dozen more follow, and together they march towards the horizon. Towards death and the setting sun.