As I march through this grassland,

Somewhere distant, desolated, but yet nice,

I wonder , why there must be war?

Why can’t our kings just think twice?

 

And, now, I see, the armies on this field.

I am grasping my sword, holding my shield,

As the legion of brave, and the horde of the wrath,

Collide in a hope to end each others breath .

 

Under this azure sky of hate .

 

And I continue to stab,

Again, again and again,

Through this mess of bloody steel,

Hate is the only thing I can now feel.

 

Under this azure sky of hate .

 

A spear into my enemies hearth,

A sword though their chest,

To cut off their limbs,

So they can… rest.

 

Under this azure sky of hate .

 

And as blood spills on the ground,

Somewhere in the depth of my mind,

I can actually find, grief for dead,

Sadness in this wretched life .

 

This once emerald fields ,

Are now crimson of blood .

The wounded scream, Dead speak no more.

There is nothing left to live or die for.

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Pesma je njesra, znam, al lupo sam... Ono Opet, mislim, sto da ne postujem?

Text bi bio prikladan za neku vrstu epskog metala, hm'.

Nije lose, ima djelova da mi se svidjaju...

\m/ strava\m/