Birthright - 2011/05/13

Over the hills come many horsemen
On their backs rides a burning sun
Our camels are overtaken quickly
Before it starts a battle is done
Strong arms with many cruel sabers
Dismount their army of hard steeds
Multitudes of my closest comrades
Were killed and marked half breeds

Their flesh bakes within the sand
We the prisoners now travel onward
In our hearts a conquest rages on
Yet outside we are forever altered
In chains we begin to wither away
As imprisoned dogs left to starve
Very few see the final non mirage
Terrible irony that fate did carve

An arena for slaves without buyers
Where we are handed our own blades
To die by the sword we were spared
Not allowed to fight your brigades
Hear this now my terrible infidels
Today is the day that I shall die
Yet my bloodline runs quite strong
With this hatred in endless supply

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