Can you hear them in the distance
like thunder through stormy skies,
wailing cross the battlefield
such pain and grief
as one by one another dies.
Metal against metal vivid strength
or the lack there of,
Moaning past its deadly mark
without compassion, without love.
Upon the crimson, blood soaked sand
a warrior meets his death,
In battle for this barren land
he fought with his every breath.
This brave warrior gave his life
a soldier of peace amongst great sin,
and just because he breathes no more
doesn't mean he didn't win.
For the warrior whom took his life
felt a great remorse inside,
there are two swords upon the bloody sand
a cross where the mournful cried.
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