Haunted fields
It seems to swirl here
in the thick heavy air
That song cast long, long ago
that filled the hills and dales
smothered the essence of life
and laid the empty breath heavy
Upon these fields worn and dead.
Its a place where the souls wonder
aimless to the ancestral beats
the lays of this eternal flesh of land
that haunts the centuries
To the decayed dreams, the mornings cry.
A battlefield
Marred by the wretched blood that flowed
from warriors hand and noble steed
that dressed the wounds of life so pale
and crushed the hordes of time to
The bitter array of sorrow and tears.
O' the tempest of night
that hovered amongst these departed souls
Brave men all, the deed fair fought
surrounds these poor souls of night
To make the battle ever right
In deep wrung tears the sword still slashes
the blades cut deep, the wounds gashes
The battle cry that vibrant roar
heard upon the winds once more
They clammer too, fight and fade
where blade to flesh taunts the masquerade
and leaves the world of dreams to rear
This night bears fast mans common tear.
Woe they come the mothers old
The wife's demented, the daughters cold
Gathering the form of loved ones around
Howling into the night, deaths wailing sound
Ah! What right the wrongs befall
The mystery of death, the legions that call
That though all gone into deaths great rapture
This battle of cry their souls recapture.
The Fallen body amidst its peers
upon these fields of battles fears
A soul so bound to mortal clay
the moment relived in constant play
That marks well the sorrow of that day.
We stand to admire the brave in deed
Recount the Chivalry, honours seed
We bless the fallen e'er by name
forgive the bloodstain of their shame
Such be the horrors of the night
that wings so fast wars evil might
We cast our lots upon empty dreams
And leave the night to their haunting screams.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph