I am bound, by these shackles of fate, unable to move forward.
For centuries I have not moved but I'm just a step away.
A step away to complete my mission.
I will live through this war, as I have through many others.
The blood on my hands, cannot be unwashed after thousands of water diving.
It is there to constantly remind me of my purpose in this world.
This place, this ground where I stand, is no more that a blood soaked battlefield.

A battle of voices,wishes, minds and memories.
The voices scream the wishes.
And the mind tells the memories.
The wishes are selfish or innocent. Pure or evil hearted.
Memories are violent, some silent, and others completely forgotten.

Forests are full of wandering orphans.
The souls of the children are lost deep into the hollow trees.
Truly hidden from the battlefield, they are safe.
Their protection is my quest.
I am a broken warrior, on the edge of losing faith.
Holding everyone with only one good arm, watching everyone with only one good eye,
I will not give up.
They are our hope.
Our future.
In this underworld of cold.
This war of prejudice.
They will stand one day.
And save us,
from this filthy ground.