Yea, though I go off to war,
I will not be alone in this fight.
For I know my friends are beside me,
even when concealed in night.

The stories have been passed down,
the wearing of time shown heavy and thick.
The battle marches onwards
with the unholy drumming of snare and stick.
The ears of the innocent deafened
and from all was turned a blind eye.
And no bells were rung nor
salutes raised for they that died.

My body scarred, my mind defeated,
only my soul is left to take.
But I know my friends are beside me,
and together, this journey, we take.