My sight is a blurred skyline
The blue stream it's head inclines

Doubt's river-like
Made with cold blood
My will's the dyke
That stops the flood
When anguish grows
It overflows
So slow

When I have just done my best
I say: alea jacta est
I've made up my mind
With my troops behind
The eagles are shadowing the west!

I see the ever
And know I have to cross

Waters carris past with them
Never coming back yet

A bitter stone like round distress
Suddenly I take and toss

Gushes flow with scum light red
Omen of a fact end

Doubt!
After reflecting I shout
Eagles of the war, march on!
Water hasn't got return when it is gone