Victorious he stood
His sword dripping his foe’s blood,
Left was no one,
Vanquished through all of the war.
Gone was every home and every son.
His sword dripping his foe’s blood,
Left was no one,
Vanquished through all of the war.
Gone was every home and every son.
Empty halls and
silence’s cries,
Were all that was left, for him to rule by.
And with his victory now complete,
He looked up and asked:
What good came of me fighting this war,
If only for you to take everyone away?
What value of the valour I spend, to protect?
If everyone you had decided to forsake?
What was life’s worth? O Sacred river,
That you swallowed all my near and dear.
Oh, of what use is my victory,
If all I have left is heartbroken misery,
And a my love to wrap my arms around,
But rather only death’s endless waiting charms.
Were all that was left, for him to rule by.
And with his victory now complete,
He looked up and asked:
What good came of me fighting this war,
If only for you to take everyone away?
What value of the valour I spend, to protect?
If everyone you had decided to forsake?
What was life’s worth? O Sacred river,
That you swallowed all my near and dear.
Oh, of what use is my victory,
If all I have left is heartbroken misery,
And a my love to wrap my arms around,
But rather only death’s endless waiting charms.
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