Once came a bitter war
to our
northern land.
Fathers and sons
took up arms to fight for their beliefs.
But in this war
No one would win.

And so we march
to fight our brothers
with the power
of arms and with
price of blood.
It tears my heart apart
to wage war on my kin.

On these fields of death
no honor could be found as friends
strike eachother down.
These
are the darkest times
our land has seen.

On our day of victory
the wind was cold and heaven wept.
I felt no joy,
nor relief for I had become.
A slayer of my own kin.

So we marched
to fight our brothers
with the power
of arms and with
price of blood.
It tore my heart apart
to wage war on my kin.

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Kirjaudu