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To those who can see the sunrise...
To those who can see the sunrise...
Within my dreams I tour ancient battlefields
The catacombs of the dead...
And the graves of our fallen comrades long perished.
Forceful winds blow and my soul is chilled away.
My hunger lies within.
My hunger lies within.
Solidarity… My companions and I,
Raise an equal cry, but no raging tempest,
Nor stalwart gale can obscure.
The visions granted me by the merciful, yet, vengeful gods.
Between the intermittent flashing thunder,
I see in the flickering light of heaven.
My comrades’ ghosts upon the heavy stones which imprison me.
Their shadows consume my very thoughts,
The very essence of me.
Their spirits comfort me, as they dance upon my heart.
As I strain my eyes into the darkness upon the walls.
I hear a death call... A death song.
My prayer is for more than strength to endure
And that I should somehow be delivered from these two hells,
Two hells. Two hells.
And that I should somehow be delivered from these...
Two hells. Two hells.
My heart speaks within of past life
And in the distance I can hear them calling
From whatever age or season
My blood tied to theirs, my blood tied to theirs.
When all my comrades sing their battle hymns
And resound off these craven dark walls
My heart is lifted up and begins anew,
The melding of purpose, harmony and this to nourish my soul.