| There’s no beauty in bloody fight:
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| Cut, kill to stay alive!
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| Blood squelches under horse’s hoof,
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| Roar of an armour, shout of people.
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| My sword is covered with blood,
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| Who stands in my way — head’s out!
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| Faces of friends are distorted.
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| It’s the true — the true of war!
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| Enemies and friends are dying,
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| We can’t offer our grounds.
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| Eyes are full of black fury:
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| It’s the true — the true of war!
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| Wounds are streaming with blood,
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| Eyes are dimmed in red.
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| Ring of bow-string as a whistle of wind!
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| It’s the true — the true of war!
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| The sunset has faded in sky,
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| We have not receded on a step
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| The enemy has chocked in our blood,
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| It’s the true — the true of war!
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| Somebody lost their fathers or sons,
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| Somebody hasn’t left out from battle.
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| Who were searching for glory are dead.
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| It’s the true — black true of war!
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| But every warrior
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| Fighting for
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| Freedom of their
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| Their native land.
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| For that they ready
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| To die with faith
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| In their heart
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| With sword in hand!
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| The sun eclipsed by smoke
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| Of fires of war.
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| It gazing through veil
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| As bloody eye
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| I will fly like white
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| White bird
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| Flashing among
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| Crows black wings
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| So much pain
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| Was absorbed this
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| This ground
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| So much fallen
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| Around of me.
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| I’m searching for you
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| Among dead bodies
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| But it’s so dark
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| In my eyes from weeping… |