Post by shironbarbaros on Feb 12, 2007 3:00:17 GMT 1
Fallen skys
for darker nights
for clouded air
were unprepared.
Beautiful blood
seeps into ground
while death who's with us
makes not a sound.
The blissful night
undisturbed
for sounds of war
none had heard.
Many lay
upon the ground
while death who stalks us
makes not a sound.
The wind blows by
a simple breeze
as the leaves
fall from the trees.
Many still
lay gagged and bound
while death who steals us
makes not a sound.
If ever I die
may it be now.
alive but dying
upon the ground.
This night is perfect
not a single flaw
we abide by death
we obey the law.
The field is soaked
with the blood of all
our souls observe
as the leaves do fall.
Upon the corpses
the leaves all land
burying faces
with eyes so bland.
Though death has come
not one feels grim
as we stand
before life so dim.
The lights all fade
our lives degrade
death consumes
the night resumes.
All things continue
while we're gone
in the silence
we hear a song.
Upon the hill
in the blissful breeze
a bard a girl
sings to the trees.
An ode to all
who fought this day
upon the field
now turning grey.
Though all died
with peaceful hearts
we're all moved by
the woman's arts.
Freed through death
we regain our thoughts
we hear the words
she forgets us not.
I heard the song
and though im dead
tears of light
there I shed.
She leaves the hill
she leaves the dead
as we rehash
the words she said.
Among the many
who had died
I am the last
to say goodbye.
I lived for days
much like this
their nights become
a perfect bliss.
So I'll remain
not tortured nor bound
here upon
this sacred ground.
Our bodies decay
I have no breath
so I'll remain
in blissful death.
for darker nights
for clouded air
were unprepared.
Beautiful blood
seeps into ground
while death who's with us
makes not a sound.
The blissful night
undisturbed
for sounds of war
none had heard.
Many lay
upon the ground
while death who stalks us
makes not a sound.
The wind blows by
a simple breeze
as the leaves
fall from the trees.
Many still
lay gagged and bound
while death who steals us
makes not a sound.
If ever I die
may it be now.
alive but dying
upon the ground.
This night is perfect
not a single flaw
we abide by death
we obey the law.
The field is soaked
with the blood of all
our souls observe
as the leaves do fall.
Upon the corpses
the leaves all land
burying faces
with eyes so bland.
Though death has come
not one feels grim
as we stand
before life so dim.
The lights all fade
our lives degrade
death consumes
the night resumes.
All things continue
while we're gone
in the silence
we hear a song.
Upon the hill
in the blissful breeze
a bard a girl
sings to the trees.
An ode to all
who fought this day
upon the field
now turning grey.
Though all died
with peaceful hearts
we're all moved by
the woman's arts.
Freed through death
we regain our thoughts
we hear the words
she forgets us not.
I heard the song
and though im dead
tears of light
there I shed.
She leaves the hill
she leaves the dead
as we rehash
the words she said.
Among the many
who had died
I am the last
to say goodbye.
I lived for days
much like this
their nights become
a perfect bliss.
So I'll remain
not tortured nor bound
here upon
this sacred ground.
Our bodies decay
I have no breath
so I'll remain
in blissful death.