Stale winds stir the souls
Of the once proud dead,
Blowing through dry lands,
Depleted and red.

A lone skull in a trench
Fades from death to dust.
Black bells toll as the
Old world turns to rust.

Broken memories
Wisp slowly through the air
Of glory and hope
And of past times fair.

Blue melody's bourn,
Rolling through dunes,
A shadow forgotten,
A warrior's tune.

Skulls upon shoulders
Marched away to fight.
Sun shone on their helms,
Gleaming proud and bright.

And so the worn youth
Marched straight, with eyes keen,
Bringing war to
A l
and they'd never seen.

And their blood they shed
To save
their brothers,
Buying a life
To end that of

A fool's ideal,
Though they fell and died,
Clouded their young minds,
As hope left their eyes.

Now glory's denied,
For no skulls remain
Willing to obey
Imperial reign.

Regrets, dear nation,
But do you not see?
Human ammunition
Is not currency.