The scratching the screaming of the howls of night,
The blasts of canons for everyone fears the might
Cries of the fallen one by one
all fall to the arms of the dark one,
The rivers that have fallen to ash and blood
The tears that stain the faces once loved..
For them stone is etched with names of none,
Who all carried a weapon but not a gun
For these fallen under the names of none,
Where not soldiers but yet
They still fell to one's gun..
