Hundreds of iron boots falling
And the lights of the stars whisper sleepless nightmares
That live in a bedroom of death..
The ravaged roads cry of battle and war
While the moon crosses darkness so slowly.
And the feet of the angels have long left this place
Only to leave barren land.
Not a single lost soul can find light in this place,
There's no map or compass to guide them.
Only the voices of pain can be heard
And the strength of warriors runs dry.
No river could quench a king's thirst for blood;
No bread can fulfill his hunger.
Only death in a war fought for glory and pride
Under skies of a dead foreign land..
And the soldiers they walk to the place of a war
Where pawns and knights are the pieces
In a game where life is a coin in the purse,
The pawns can only hope to go home.
Contributed by giorgio - 2013/1/26 - 19:26
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.