When first I gazed upon the field of battle, morale was weak. The enemy had worn down your defenses over long months, exploiting your weakness, depriving you of nourishment, the effects of which were palpable. He thought you were broken, but I saw the fight in your eyes and I knew you were anything but weak. You forgot what it was you were fighting for, and I set forth to remind you.
  
  Today is the final conflict. I fitted you with the finest arms and armor, with courage, with reason and passion. But still I tremble with anxiety, for I know that I cannot fight by your side this day. This battle is yours to win and all I can do is wait and marvel at the circumstance. How fitting, that you should choose this day to break free.  

  I cannot see the combat. Hearing the trumpets on the wind, sounding the charge and the clash of steeled wills, I imagine that every cry of agony is the surrender of your heart’s beat. The roars yield to silence and I know it is decided. Cresting a hill, your head is crowned in sunrise rays that mingle in your gentle curls. Your smile can hide no longer, it graces your face without shame and I know then your answer.

  I ask no favor or fee, it was you who fought so bravely after all. I only hope that when you look upon the night on this date and see the bursts of light and fire dancing in the sky, you remember what you were fighting for.