Echoes of Valor 2

In a realm of ancient tales and woe, Where shadows weave their dusky cloak, A knight once bold, now bent and low, His heart weighed down, his spirit broke. He rode to war with sword held high, His banner dancing in the breeze, But battles lost and comrades' cries, Now haunt his nights, they do not cease. The meadows once green now run with red, The fortress walls now crumble down, The dreams of glory, all but fled, In sorrow's clutches, he starts to drown. For wars are won and wars are lost, But scars endure, both seen and deep, And though the battle's storm is tossed, 'Tis sorrow's hand that makes hearts weep. So sing his tale, oh minstrel wise, Of valiant feats and courage strong, But recall the price, a heavy price, When swords clash loud and peace is gone. For in the hush of night so cold, When stars shine bright with icy light, The echoes of the fallen cry, A mournful dirge, a solemn plight. Yet in defeat, a lesson clear, That victory's flame can quickly fade, To ash and dust, and in the end, 'Tis love and hope that heal the fray. So let us toast those lost in war, Their sorrow holds a strength untold, For in their grief, a noble core, A resilient heart, a spirit bold. And though the battles rise once more, We'll meet them with a steadfast gaze, For in the darkest night's deep core, The light of hope shall guide our ways. And though the battles rise once more, We'll meet them with a steadfast gaze, For in the darkest night's deep core, The light of hope shall guide our ways.