In the shadows of silence, the drums roar,
As we march to the echoes of war.
In the trenches, where whispers collide,
Steel and hearts, we carry with pride.
Muddy boots trace the lines of fear,
Under skies that once were clear.
Each bullet a story, every scar a tale,
In the land of the brave, where the brave prevail.
Echoes of war, under the gun's glow,
We dance with shadows, where the lost ones go.
Hear the cry, feel the beat of our core,
We're soldiers in rhythm, in the echoes of war.
Letters home filled with unshed tears,
Promises of return, calming their fears.
But the battlefield knows no gentle hand,
Only the fierce who can barely stand.
The fire, the smoke, painting sorrow in the air,
Yet amidst despair, a warrior's prayer.
Echoes of war, the battle drums ring,
In the heart of the storm, our spirits sing.
We march, we fight, not just to survive,
But to tell the world our spirits are alive.
Can you hear the silence after the storm?
The stillness speaks of those who were worn.
Yet in their eyes, a relentless flame,
Burning for peace, in war's cruel game.
As the echoes fade into the night,
We find strength in each other, in every plight.
Warriors of peace, on a blood-stained floor,
Together we rise, in the echoes of war.