An Ancient Ballad

An Adunian ballad from long ago.

The travelers all walk through the mist. The snow has settled, but no one speaks.

There is no glory in this day. No snowball fight. No Fort. The cheers and the smiles seem now forever lost.

You will not find happiness in here. Cause so much is gone. People we loved and adored are standing no more.

Leaders, soldiers, people we needed the most. Now all lie dead, lifeless and cold.

Perhaps we are selfish. As the death was bound to come. Why should they endure life? When they have lost so much they loved?

Comrades, soldiers, children and friends. A woman who is now gone along with the chance.

A chance. A life. The one thing you believed it was true. Now she's gone when you said Adieu.

We cherish the moments. The moments we were not fooled. That something was wonderful. A feeling completely new.

The white wall closes around us and we know there is no escape. The pain is a bite from a poisonous snake.

He was walking right there, in that distant route. Remembering the pain. Something he would change if he could.

Loyalty, and honor? For The God and this land? It seems that these words bring no comfort, Alas.

It does not matter If we know why something has happened or not. The judge has decided to make an invisible knot.

So our mind is devided to two equal paths. They burn through our heads, making us wonder how long we will last.

They have seen death ahead countless times. What we only see now. We all must be strong for the king and the crown.

Things they believed or have chosen to forget? No one knows or dares to place this bet.

It's false! Accept it! Just learn and let go! The time changes everything. That's what I have been taught to know.

Just like the most loyal man understands where to place his foot. And so you must let go of this imaginary hound.

Your mind is burning with poisonous thoughts. Learn to forget. Or die with the most.

What does it take to make a change? How can all seem ready, so easy to fail?

A lord of the north, standing prepared in his keep. The armys are marching, wanting the end to begin.

To the walls! To the walls! Prepare for fight! Winter is coming in the broad daylight.

Like a raging storm, a flash in the clear night sky. Another man falls, hides from your sight.

No retreat. Stand and hold your ground. He gives the example but a sphere falls down.

Circles, no pattern, as the snow turns dark red. The blood of Adunia has pointlessly fell.

Outnumbered, surrounded and with the spirit shuttered, the men lock the doors. They stand and express their doubt and their thoughts.

Where is our lord? Is there no hope for a win? One final stand. We are aiming to kill.

Die willingly or with a sword at hand? There was never a question but a painful end.

No compromise. No surrender. Never back down. Someone has to die in the name of a crown.

It's not about justice, honor or what seems fair. Those people deserve something you alone can not spare.

One final charge. The final killing blow. More blood has been spilled in the name of the law.

So one lord remains. Making his last attempt to escape. A game with the death, he has so long delayed.

He remembers the cheers, the victory, surrounded by merry men. But this rebellion has been the last farewell.

Another piece has died. How much can a man endure? As his hopes are lost, he has to be cruel.

Sweat and blood marks his long, endless tracks. He is brought to the King, who has the crown he lacks.

Expectations and words are the last sounds in his life. But the name of god is not spoken right.

The with your God. See what you have done. You do not want forgiveness. Deny your illness, like you where never wrong.

Behead him! I shalt tolerate thou no more! The insolence and arrogance must be destroyed from within the core!

A sparkle, a light, as he throws the last dice. The death will not allow yet another, glorious rise.

Like a phoenix he burns from an endless desire and makes one last leap, to his nephew, the king.

Scratching his face or carving his soul? How could he ever forget who the phoenix king was?

The last of three lords has fallen, forming a bloody line. Like the last flare of the sun as it vanishes in the vast plains of time.

Where we right? Was the mistake truly mine? Regretting what you've done, does not change time.

And the Empire still stands, despite the three lords' shadow spells.

You live and life is a helping hand. A hole through the mist, a path without end.

Why does the rain fall down to the ground? Why does the sun keeps spinning around?

Why do bad things happen, to good people indeed?

Were we never worth it? That's the pain that lurks within.

Cause it's crystal clear that we our strong enough. One day we will be able to hold them tightly at last.

That's the one thought that has kept us this far.