The Dark Ones
Proudly we march into battle,
The one place we truly belong.
By the end, there are no blond gods.
It is the dark ones who survive.
The heretic and the whore’s son
Will outlast these fair gentlemen.
War is no place for golden boys.
It is the dark ones who survive.
The poacher, the thief, the liar:
They possess this kingdom of blood.
Golden lieutenants are cut down.
It is the dark ones who survive.
This wasteland holds no more goodness.
Scraps of light are quickly snuffed out.
How many young ones die in vain?
But still the dark ones will survive.
The war is over, enemy gone.
The gentlemen can go back home.
Without them, we will still get on.
Forever, the dark ones survive.
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