(Afred Sisly, 1839-1899)
The time draws near to us,
we must push harder and longer now,
for every moment at rest,
puts us one step closer to defeat.
Forge on into the morning light,
burnt by the midnight sun,
construct the fabric of the earth,
constitute the artifacts of success.
Battalion of good will besiege us,
do not let their god command you,
we'll ride with the devil inside,
should it be prudent of us.
So land down the hammers again,
fold the steel of our men,
stitch the sheaths to hold them,
and prep the horses for the war.
No suffering of morals shall become us,
if the forces of palladins too strong,
then by their god we swear this,
not a one of us will remain.
Return to index...dis-Emi-A Index