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Bloody and far from home,
The sky is heavy with snow,
My time is slowly running low.
My body, freezing cold,
Weâre the last of a dying world,
These are the final days of old.
My time will end here shortly,
The snow entombs me slowly,
This battleâs lost, my bodies broken.
The morning that we left, we held our loved ones close and cried,
We know so many wouldnât make it back alive.
We knew we stood no chance as we said our last goodbyes,
We fought for you, and for you weâll die.
We battled hard and long,
But we couldnât tame this storm,
My eyes are frozen, open.
But their numbers were too great,
We fell as autumn leaves,
As the snow gathers, my bodies broken.
Lying here in a mix of regret and pride,
If Iâd known of this faith, would I have still come here to fight?
Thinking of all I was waiting for and all Iâve yet to say,
I thought I had so much time, but itâs been taking away.
I hoped one day, weâd be old and gray,
I hoped one day we could wake up and feel safe.
Still I love you with all the love a heart can hold,
But I couldnât be âthis great warriorâ when it was needed most.
They will know that few stood against many,
Even though our chances were hopeless.
Just for the hope, That the beauty that we see,
Doesnât go unnoticed.
Our time here with earthly feet has ended,
Our fathers of old are calling us to the mighty halls,
Itâs time to take our place, or let our ghosts haunt this place.
To wait greeting our comrades who are yet to fall.
Iâm not saying we would have done better,
but at least we could have called this our time,
Iâm not saying we would have done better,
But we couldnât out last this night