6By Shimoyo Lómiel
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In the dark and cold we come to seek the morning light
Though the sun is hidden from our eyes, the moon leads in the night
Trekking in this lonely land, white mist curls at our feet
We march on, swords and spears in hand, crying tears of bittersweet
Shining silver, born of our pain, our tears, they pave the way
Through blackness to a path unstained, we chase it towards the day
The shadows leap, their blackened hearts desiring our despair
Our weapons flash, keen edges part their ranks that kept us there
Swift we drive on, pursuing now the splendor far ahead
Until, arriving, low we bow; our cares and blades we shed
Far behind is that road of fear, yet some stay, lost in night
Searching for that path of tears and moonbeams to the light.