We rode through a valley, beaten warriors, refugees of war
The sky was black, without nuance, no single sort of cloud
The power of nature coming to finish off we few folk left
Riding the steeds, serving even as they must've been scared
We'd survived our war, not victors, and not able to be proud
It was driving through mountains, we could see just barely
Our path was unknown, we were fleeing, to save our flesh
In winds growing, the rain felt like stones, thundering loud
We followed our instincts and found a deep chasm ahead
A safe place, we prayed, thankful it wasn't our final breath
