Caladan Brood Echoes Of Battle
There is a deep pathos here A monumental sorrow Blood has stained this ground The very land itself a barrow
The echoes of battle ring cold through the ages The moon shines on old dunes, awakening ancient hatreds
Swords held high to the desert sky at such great a cost Standards fly above funeral pyres Victory and loss We are strong, but when the day is done we are left bereaved Marching on to the battle drum Triumph and defeat
Behold the storming flood of iron Destruction wrought there upon the field A host of warriors fall, never to return Their epitaph a song of steel
Empires built upon the bones of those who stood beside us The sun has set eternally into the dark And we have seen the fields of war steal the lives of sons and brothers The iron heart of glory beats a hollow dirge The gods of battle rise and fall but the thirst for blood lives on The Wolves of Winter rise and howl for honour's debt The sands forever greedily consume the blood of friends and fathers The gates of Hood will open wide with dreams of death
There is a deep pathos here A monumental sorrow Blood has stained this ground The very land itself a barrow
