Only few soldiers left, only four
Our hands stained forevermore
Quietly grim darkness creeps
We are all grim, and have all reaped lives
Gunshots ringing in the air
Fire freely burns the terf
Spirits restless in their murdered sleep
How could we have caused this madness
Trees moan with the weight of what we have done
Plunged our hands into their blood
That may run in our own veins
Holding a blade to your brother’s neck
Kill or be killed, there is no middle ground
Wives howling over their husbands
With their hearts long since broken
Pain burns like wildfire through our hearts
Yet cool, chill calm settles over us
Yet we have no hope
Because when all’s said and done
Now the war will never be won
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