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We made it back to Hellas, resting in our

homes. But, we couldn’t stay too long, we felt it in our

bones.

Our neighbors are still feuding and cannot make

amends. Alas, we didn’t think about the message that it sends.

The message that it sends are reflections of the past.

The image of ourselves is the one that doesn’t last.

The message that it sends is a message to be feared.

We have tried to spread the word but no one seems to hear.

We didn’t fight each other, when marching on the line.

There we had a common cause, was almost by design.

We always teach our children, preparing them for war.

Though we are mercenaries, it is something we abhor.

The message that it sends are reflections of the past.

The image of ourselves is the one that doesn’t last.

The message that it sends is a message to be feared.

We have tried to spread the word but no one seems to hear.

From Athens down to Sparta, is where our hatred

dwells. Something deep inside of us, our hearts are

citadels.

How can we be united, if all we do is fight,

are we so unable to bring the truth to light?

The message that it sends are reflections of the past.

The image of ourselves is the one that doesn’t last.

The message that it sends is a message to be feared.

We have tried to spread the word but no one seems to hear.

Can someone heed the message and make the fighting cease, merge a thousand city-states to form

united Greece.

Someone to end the fighting, turn enemies to friends,

to shine the light of pharos, and the message that it sends.

The message that it sends are reflections of the past.

The image of ourselves is the one that doesn’t last.

The message that it sends is a message to be feared.

We have tried to spread the word but no one seems to hear.