Из альбома: Last of the Line
The heart hangs heavy
Of a warrior overcome
Twigs break beneath my feet
As I make the long way home
When the time for duty came
The fear was clear in their eyes
Their painful howls will ring
When they see just I survive
My kinsmen lay behind me Prostrate in open graves
Cold and still, bereft of life
The field-of-slaughter's prey
As daylight wanes and birdsong fades
I ponder what befell
Laid back on my bed of leaves
I curse that I still dwell
Shadows of the dead
Bathe the field at sunset
Echoes of the slain
Haunt the dawn at daybreak
As dawn’s embrace approaches
And breaks my somber dreams
I call to mind our falling flag
My brethren’s final screams
The harrowing sounds of conquest
Still pierce my troubled soul
As bent beneath the weight of grief
I grimly wander on Some are born to thrive
Others doomed to die
As fate decrees, the threads proclaim
The path an arrow flies
A spear-thrust parried or true
A kingdom saved, or a tribe enslaved
The web that wyrd will weave
The outcome fortune deems
Joys unbound, or a burial mound
Courage that lasts or fails
The wind on hostile sails
Sorrow’s tears or blissful cheers