In days so ancient they were long forgotten,
Ashes mingled with the dust in the valley.
In the day that is tomorrow,
The sand blackened by blood,
Blood that poured like a flood,
Would gleam in the light of the sun,
At that time there'd be nowhere to run.
Blood, shed to attain justice for those,
Burnt in the days of old.
The warriors would fight brazen and bold.
The sound of crushing bone,
As common as that of shallow breaths,
As common as mortal deaths.
The unforgiving war will wage on,
As the families of soldiers begin to mourn,
All hopes of their loved ones returning gone.
Destruction, pain, ruin-all that is left,
The spirit of death begins its theft,
The living become the dead.
And that will be the end.
