Echoes Of Battle

There is a deep pathos hereA monumental sorrowBlood has stained this groundThe very land itself a barrowThe echoes of battle ring cold through the agesThe moon shines on old dunes, awakening ancient hatredsSwords held high to the desert sky at such great a costStandards fly above funeral pyresVictory and lossWe are strong, but when the day is done we are left bereavedMarching on to the battle drumTriumph and defeatBehold the storming flood of ironDestruction wrought there upon the fieldA host of warriors fall, never to returnTheir epitaph a song of steelEmpires built upon the bones of those who stood beside usThe sun has set eternally into the darkAnd we have seen the fields of war steal the lives of sons and brothersThe iron heart of glory beats a hollow dirgeThe gods of battle rise and fall but the thirst for blood lives onThe Wolves of Winter rise and howl for honour's debtThe sands forever greedily consume the blood of friends and fathersThe gates of Hood will open wide with dreams of deathThere is a deep pathos hereA monumental sorrowBlood has stained this groundThe very land itself a barrow