The Battle

The Battle
Two armies stood,
Like the mountains great
Waiting, waiting
Waiting for the call
For the call that would bring them
Victory, sweet victory,
Or death

Finally, a voice that boomed
Like the heathen gods of old
Ordered them to war
And so with a roar and a crash
The two armies met with in thunderous clash
To fight and kill and die
All for the glory that would bring them
All for the glory that would bring them
Fame and honor
Or cold, merciless death

The battle lasted throughout the day
And through the night
Clashing like the waves of the oceans wide
With sword and shield and spear
Clashing below
And arrow and bolt and fire
Raining hell above
And with one last stroke of the
Cold steel of his blade
His enemy fell
Cast down to the blood soaked mud

And the victor raised his blood stained blade
Shining red as the morning dawn
Alone in that plane of the dead
Lonely in the ruined wasteland
But victorious through the blood of his comrades
Roma Victor





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