There is a deep pathos here

A monumental sorrow

Blood has stained this ground

The very land itself a barrow

The echoes of battle ring cold through the ages

The moon shines on old dunes awakening ancient hatreds

Swords held high to the desert sky at such great a cost

Standards fly above funeral pyres

Victory and loss

We are strong but when the day is done we are left bereaved

Marching on to the battle drum

Triumph and defeat

Behold the storming flood of iron

Destruction wrought there upon the field

A host of warriors fall never to return

Their epitaph a song of steel

Empires built upon the bones of those who stood beside us

The sun has set eternally into the dark

And we have seen the fields of war steal the lives of sons and brothers

The iron heart of glory beats a hollow dirge

The gods of battle rise and fall but the thirst for blood lives on

The Wolves of Winter rise and howl for honour's debt

The sands forever greedily consume the blood of friends and fathers

The gates of Hood will open wide with dreams of death

There is a deep pathos here

A monumental sorrow

Blood has stained this ground

The very land itself a barrow