As the beads of salt fell from his angry brow,
He charged ahead - bound to one vow.
A vow that he would charge ahead,
Though none could truly comprehend
The fierce voice rising from within,
Compelling him to fight- to win.
How could he ignore his fate,
That led him to this final state?
To regain the love he he's lost before,
He must save his gang once more.
Win he must- this angry War,
So Peace may slowly drift ashore.
And wash away those salty beads,
Leaving only the stillness he so needs.
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