Ranks of Light

‘Neath the smoke and cloud of war,

Amassed on field below 

March rank on rank of battle-torn

And weary, weakened souls.


The soldiers face a brutal foe,

Who, through the ages long,

Has sought for e’er to bring them low,

And weaken so the strong.


The troops press on, though fight is fierce,

And death flies through the air;

If enemy lines they cannot pierce,

Their spirit will despair.


As soldiers fall on bloody field,

Though sore their comrades’ hearts,

They steel their souls and banners wield,

And fill the fallens’ part.


For every man who bleeds and ides

‘Mid warriors of the light,

Ten more shall rise up where he lies,

And strive to win the fight.

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