Unhinged 1

A Ballad of Echoing Strife

In shadows deep, where silence weeps,

A tale of war, in darkness keeps.

On fields of blood, where sorrows bloom,

A haunting dirge, a song of doom.

The Prelude of Thunder:

Behold the stage where thunder roars,

Where swords unsheathed, ambition soars.

A tempest brewed on battle's brink,

As nations clashed, and echoes sing.

The Dance of Blades:

In moonlit dance, the blades would gleam,

A waltz of death, a tragic dream.

Soldiers, pawns in war's cruel game,

With every strike, etched was their name.

Crimson Canvases:

The canvas painted shades of red,

As valiant souls in battle bled.

A tapestry of grief and pain,

Each drop a loss, a lasting stain.

The Anthem of Dying Hope:

A requiem for the fallen brave,

Whose hopes were buried in the grave.

In battle's grip, they sought for light,

Yet darkness fell, and stole their sight.

War's Ravenous Hunger:

War, a beast with hunger vast,

Devouring futures, dreams amassed.

It cared not for the orphan's tear,

Nor the widow's lament, crystal clear.

Widows' Wail, Orphans' Lament:

Along the rivers of sorrow's flow,

The widows weep, their grief aglow.

Orphans bear a burden dire,

Their laughter quenched, consumed by fire.

The Bitter Harvest:

War sowed seeds in fields of woe,

A bitter harvest, all would know.

The earth, once rich, now tainted, scarred,

By the hands of war, its beauty marred.

Echoes of the Fallen:

Amidst the ruins, echoes rise,

The haunting whispers of goodbyes.

Ghosts of heroes, silent cries,

To distant realms, their spirits fly.

The Conqueror's Hollow Triumph:

Victors stood on conquered land,

Holding triumph, a hollow hand.

For in the spoils of their cruel gain,

The taste of sorrow would remain.

Peace, a Fading Ember:

Once the drums of war did cease,

A semblance of a fleeting peace.

Yet, embers flicker, memories scar,

War's legacy, both near and far.

The Weary Hearts' Reflection:

In the quiet aftermath, hearts reflect,

On battles fought, on lives unchecked.

Was victory worth the heavy toll?

The answer lies in the wounded soul.

A Lament for the Fallen:

So, let us sing a mournful song,

For those who fell, for right or wrong.

In war's cruel grip, they found their fate,

A somber dirge, both love and hate.

Hope Amidst the Rubble:

Yet, in the ruins, a sprout may rise,

A symbol of hope that defies.

For even in war's desolate art,

Hope persists, a beating heart.

The Ode to Peace:

In the aftermath, let's strive for peace,

To mend the wounds, to conflicts cease.

For in unity, the world may find,

A balm for wounds of every kind.

In shadows deep, where silence weeps,

The ballad ends, as darkness sleeps.

A plea for peace, a world made whole,

Where swords are sheathed, and echoes stilled.