In the vanishing light, giving way to darkness, there a last standing soul.

For he of mourn,

Completely torn,

Ere a day,

Stands a way,

For the last standing soul, remembrance of time. Sorrow felt, were many a soul.

Many a call, many a sword and shield, on the battle field. For of that day, many a year ago, two had faced.

Each of temper,

Each of smite,

Compelled to fight.

Ere a day,

Stands a way,

Before the horn,

Were be it blown,

A thunder of a thousand feet, clang of armor, sword and shield.

Many a sorrow, in remembrance,

Of ere the day,

Stands a way,

In battle that tore, through the field, on ere a day, they placed a remembrance. Filled with sorrow,

For he of mourn,

Completely torn,

Was the statue of battles past.