an army marches west,
betrothed to a forgotten god.
mighty beneath his open hand,
and divine beneath his banner.

hand pressed to breast and throat,
pride-less tears devouring black eyes.
and stands, a fearless legion,
as hell rises to greet a golden dawn.

on perch, and crying for slaughter,
like birds of prey, enemy stirs.
and a red host stands strong,
hearts hard to the comming war.

man bows to the howling wind,
a tempest set to precede a massacre.
as purehearted soldiers weep
for a five star nation falling.

painted skin wrapped in blood's own cause,
mirrored beneath an unsheathed sword,
as down the empire, lies like babylon,
felled at the dragons black feet.

now, an army marches home,
victory beneath true god's love.
as man, as woman, as child; defeated...
all wrought such sorrow, now washed away.