老兵は待つ。
己が役割と、矜持とが交わるその時を。

最早錆びつく様を無為に眺めるだけなのだと。
そう半ば諦めていた黒鉄の槍へ、
今一度、静かな誇りを籠める栄誉を胸に。

そして、辿り歩んだ歪な道の末が、
信念の果てにあるものだと願って。

The aged soldier waits patiently. He knows there will come a time when he and his dignity are needed once more.

He turns his gaze to his black iron spear—a spear he once thought had nothing left to do but gather rust—and approaches it quietly, with honor and pride in his heart.

He prays that the winding, twisted path he has followed thus far will one day lead to where he believes he was always meant to go.