The Battles Within

Everyday grows ever frail,
Times wilt and turning so pale,
The age of trees grew old and weak,
The age of iron smoking thick.

We bring our swords, no longer steel,
We bring our armors, no longer shields,
As we walk to our destiny ends,
We sit on metal chariots without sane.

Though everything changes in contraband,
Something always do still remains,
Here we are here in this brotherly war,
Here we are, still brothers and sisters of war.

But, hopefully someday when skies turns clear,
We will all sit together once a year,
To share the stories, to share the pain,
And make our friendship not in vain.

We kill and brute on each others time,
We tear and cry when somebody dies,
But one day my brother, we will all wine,
In vahalla we are all gifted and divine.

Though we fight against and compete,
Remember this my friend, I repeat,
No matter what happens outside,
I will always be by your side in the inside.

(a part of a draft, from my written chapters in "Book of Emperium")