Saturday, August 16, 2008


The Istvacones tribe fell to our Legion
While supporting their Gaelic cousins
Running to the Rhenus to escape their pursuers
The wild children hunted by the dogs of Caesar
They fell but weren’t broken
For Germania awaits his children
The Legions dare not enter
Germania devours all who enter
Who remain not his kin
Germania tribes armed and angry
Have crushed all Legions marching for Rome’s honor
While in Germania the fatherland of war
You beckon across the Rhenus
You taunt the Legions who chase your children
We long only for home, and desire some sort of victory
But we cannot subdue the Germania nor its kin
My years in the Gaul never prepared me
To see or deal with the Germania
Legions worn to a man, with blood left upon the snows
Mixed now with the melt,
In the confluence
The flowing channels of the Rhenus
Germania bleeds but heals
We simply die, left to our fates
Forgotten at home
Ignored not by Germania
Where we are running and never reaching
Where we are failing and falling for the honor of Rome
Upon the Northern frontiers of the Empire
Upon our knees in despair and pained
While the Rhenus still flows
And Germania stands
Wounded, yes, bleeding, certain
But alive in testament that we’ve failed