Here I stand, feeling alone again.
My palms moist of sweat and slick to touch.
Gripping my weapon,
I look out at the unflinching eyes of beasts.
There are thousands staring back, standing, waiting,
As the sound of my heartbeat echoes.
The smell of alcohol hinders the growth of courage.
Knowing what they want, I answer their call.
The heartbeat gets louder, I can no longer hear their cheers.
I raise my weapon and spout the sounds,
As creatures join in, I am going to win.
Crowd under my grasp, I will make every second last,
Because every song relates to their past.