A health human doesn't mind wake up in the morning thinking this is it's last day on earth. But I think that's a luxury, not a curse. Knowing you a close to the end is a kind of freedom. Good time to take inventory. Outgunned, outnumbered, out of our minds, no a suiside mission. But the sand and the rocks here stand with thousands of years of warfare they will remember us, for this. Cause out of all our vast array of nightmires this is the one we choose. We go forward like the breath exhaleded from the earth, with vigor in our hearts and one goal in sight. We will kill him.