Riding on our horses,
we swept through the battlefield,
Thinking of the causes
this battle would yield.
With each slash of the blade,
ripping apart the enemy.
Why did the idea fade
that mercy could be shown upon any?
With victory in our sight
It made me wonder
If we were the wrong or the right,
the life we had plundered
It dawned upon me bright -
Above the conflicts of the mind
It mattered not, to be wrong or right.
All that had to be left behind.
The battle won, we fight for the war.
A war that takes place not on the field,
but in hearts of the people set afar.
So as to overcome what their minds shield.
The day the war is won
everything would be bright.
Because what we had now done
would be right...