The Immortals

On a dark summer night, we went to fight, over the hills crimson with blood
It is there that we swayed, no use came from my blade, my soldiers all joining the dead
Still we fought on, our chorus, our song, as through we danced our blades through the night
forced back we sought, to gain our land fought, a promise in that moon light

Should we arise, from the graves their demise, for our king forever we would fight
none will save those, suffer all foes, not to be saved by power or godlly might
we wandered the night, recovering from the fight, wence we found our goal
entralled by darkness, shattered the heartless, came forth a deadly growl

up stood the creature, this fire clothed monster, with a deep voice he offered his need
gratefully they stood, because now they could, keep their promise with their unbreakable creed
he granted them immortallity, but for the price of virtuality, their souls shall never rest
to but them that wasnt new, as the deep darkness grew, the went egar as their king's best

to the feild they came, like an undying flame, their blades pouring like rain
in the midst of it all, they became skeletal, a mask with no shame
and still they fought on, singing their warriors songs, as the dead lay like grass
gleefully they slew, if only their enemies knew, the out bringing of their dark pormise

in the clam night breeze, the living feel like leafs, as the enemy general and his men flew
clamining victory, forever embracingly, they priased their dead and blessed their king too
wandering home, but forever to roam, they, the prize and ultimate weapon
the greed for land, and lordly demand, only created their own distruction

they but one-hundred and forty men, slew an armies worth and then, by themselves they won the wars and battles known to man
commaned by one, the great army won, no fear from any lord's land
the fear of the dead, for many have said, they still ride in their hosts name
the great army, of one-hundred and forty, still fights on without shame