A cry for war.
A bugle at dawn.
Anxious eyes, brave hearts, determined arms. A sword lifts, then thousands, and soon the blue sky turns dusty.
When dusk arrives with secret sighs, and stars light up the dark skies, sleep wanders off, dreams are elusive, and fear creeps in...
They wait for the sun to rise, to shed light upon the disastrous field.
To wear the cold, steely armour, and go back with stolen courage.
Among the rubble and bloodshed, among the broken ties.
Among destruction, despair, and forever-gone smiles.
-Rucha Takle
A bugle at dawn.
Anxious eyes, brave hearts, determined arms. A sword lifts, then thousands, and soon the blue sky turns dusty.
When dusk arrives with secret sighs, and stars light up the dark skies, sleep wanders off, dreams are elusive, and fear creeps in...
They wait for the sun to rise, to shed light upon the disastrous field.
To wear the cold, steely armour, and go back with stolen courage.
Among the rubble and bloodshed, among the broken ties.
Among destruction, despair, and forever-gone smiles.
-Rucha Takle