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Fighting Death
DW ( / )

Fighting Death

The perilous day calls for dark night,
Nevermore the crying sun will fall to appease,
Endless continuation of the eternal fight,
Supplied by the young who will not heed.

Smiling with cheers and joy they depart,
As friends and family praise their young,
Filled with patriotic and modest hearts,
For their ballad of life has not been sung.

Eager to their distances they arrive,
Hampered by the veterans’ warning,
“We should not through battle strive,
Those who wish to see the next morning.”

The thundering line of death stands,
Starting neither early nor far late,
Comrades hold their courage in scared hands,
For their common enemy is now fate.

The passion of war scares the new,
Of glory’s gaze far more trying,
The proud, the young, the few,
As one watches their friends dying.

The innocent fight to make this war cease,
Forged in brotherly bonds of blood,
Making wishes for infinite peace,
Surrounded by lack of eternal love.

As time falls to end the hellish fight,
With few that still live to laugh and weep,
The sun surrenders to the black night,
And marks the beginning of endless sleep.

And the moon will rise to tranquil calm,
As tomorrow will yield to eternal war,
As Death collects souls with soft arms,
As humanity fights under every star.

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