Come ye haggard soldiers, rest in the arms of fate
for you fought against the foe, that stood upon that throne
now you lay weary battered broken and maimed
and some walk now upon that great plane
for the cause must be righteous for you to fight
and to give it now your earthly life, for what lies beyond you do not know
except for toil this earth, perhaps the sleep of final rest
will clear away the weariness, the horrors that we seen and dealt as well,
for there is no god no justice in this battle and strife
you stand ever silent and stoic amongst the many who witness not what you have scene
upon this earth so green
the sorrow robbed of youth so soon, llike a blossom without its bloom
your toils greater than you alone thats why you fight that man upon the throne
which until your laid to rest amongst the great tomes,
you struggle on beneath the autumn moon.
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