The Crimson Wine Of Battle

Pallid dawn arrives,

Sets a sickly sun alight

As we march in line

'Ere we embrace the fight!

Caught in our shields the light

Flashes a death's head white -

The enemy yonder is a shiver

With the cruel spell of fear!

A bitter taste's on my tongue,

A blackness pounds in my heart:


Wrought by sword, axe and spear,

Steeped in the havoc that is to come:


And when I vest my flashing sword

And my hand on judgment takes hold,

Warlord in the brooding sky above -

Count me among thy heroes of old!

"Battle-frenzy serves the brave

In skull-hewn cups of frothing red

The crimson wine of battle, the draught

Of immortality from the vineyards of war!"

Vyšlo na albech