Wounds of war, bloodied claws
Let the sounds fall on the scarred moors
Stand side by side
Rules by which we all play and abide
Fight through the night
Let the enemy see our light
Nothing more than a grudge held strong
No more than a war waged wrong
Yet still we shall march on
Future forecast of blood, brimstone and silent song
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem