i have dreamt of a field of silk,
shimmering whites and grey of thought,
pure desire flowing fondly through my mind.
lances of gold woke me from my slumber,
a restless call to arms and action,
to sunder; to defend all that I had dreamt.
lets us make this our stand my brothers,
bend your bows of will and aim true the arrows of defiance,
once last call to rally our broken; to wake our weary dead.
watch as they fall before our might,
hold firm you shield and let not our wall be broken,
hold fast your heart against the dread.
be all of us my brothers in life,
in death we will still walk the grey together,
feel the glory within our grasp and cry havoc for life!
the red rain is almost spent now,
our arrogance is spent and enemies undone,
their souls screams on our conscience.
softly now come our maidens and their tears,
bourne on wings of sorrow for our broken bones,
lift our loves; our hearts are whole and waiting.
a heavy price; you freedom is bought,
be not mean with life bought by our blood,
spend all in search of laughter; balance our fear.
please.
khushil.io 