The thorn studded branches bleed
Gleaming in the smear of cold Moonlight
And I have smelled blood in a dark night
Where pale bodies have been cast down
Dark winds gather loosed souls
spawned on this forgottten land
I have seen a standing on this shore
with no yield or quarter given
The dust quelled our every dream
and a bitter rage howled to a sky of storms
There rose a darkness upon the land
and the sigils of an unwanted war
gave signs to bold battalions
Crouched beneath the cold fires of tyrants
We sang in the wind a forlorn dirge
as faces leaned toward the dawn
Rising we grasped a dark dream
This cold and shadowed despair
that steals light from the World
If despair was ever cloaked in ritual
it was spoken here with blood
And as the order came we marched
in serried lines of futility
A cold bristling of guns in the dawn
We set our hearts and eyes
toward the foe
