The burning fields
The circling crows
The chattering ravens
The screaming children
The enemy has broken through
Again
They have destroyed a village
Again
The dead and dying will be mourned
Again and again and again
How the world encompasses
The loving and the hate
All there is for me
Is the acrid smell of death
That remains
I do not long to be famed
I do not long for perfumed silks
And gold
I long for the peace
So my quest might end
In the name of my King
