Ten Winters Apart, Pt. 2: Song of Mourn - Crimfall

No man an island

Swept away with rising tide

Land a mare, saddled thrice

By masters eager to ride

With open arms whole west disarmed

Blood lets the blood, scars on feuds to carve

Between lines claimed

Iron curtains waive on wind

Entwined on soil of mine

And honor coiled here within

With open arms whole west disarmed

Yield the last vanguard

Blood lets the blood scars on feuds to carve

Long gone are the voice and lore

Our daughters fled these shores

Who then bears the songs of mourn

With new horizons shadowed from dawn

Long gone are the springtime born

These hands of mine sent them forth

Who then bears the wounds of war

When my loins are bleeding to core