Upon the Morning Field
Mortal are the armies of man

for what we knowest he shallt never understand

As a pawn he shallt be sacrificed

Led by his master, encouraged by lies

Proud as a knight he shan't stand aside

Despite his vigour he finally dies

For as much as he believe

He shallt be deceived

The lives of the lost

Are a tribute to mortality



Where no outside enemies exists

Man finds enemies within his own kind

Empires and kingdoms rise and fall

Each on a bloody tide of battle and destruction