My blood runs upon the sand of troy.
My friend with arrow through foot lies like a mangled toy.
With my last drop of life I listen, listen to the sound of the ocean,
But it is covered by screams.
Some may say that I am scared of meeting the boatman,
But will welcome him.
And soon I will take my place among the gods.
My body collected, my body burned,
But soon the sands will bury me.