chaometric

Legionnairs
One last salute the bayonets

When all the banners are unfurled When the drum beat at dead of night
The legions marching glorius on burial ground Nothing left
Now only facing demons in that forsaken place Passchendaele Like a shrine
The old commandments stand Fires of death to light Take stand in no man’s land
Shell shocked they wandered aimslessly Butchered and damned Wounded in there bloody flag
So goes the Legionnair Fallen but victorious