Maybe its all that I've been through...

The fires that rage won't define us... We will keep our strength.

Our candles burn to mourn..

Fire on fire, we're normally killers...

The fires lick the air as the bodies lay motionless on the ground. Lay pleading. Lay bleeding. Lay drawing their last breath. Lay suffering....

The blood pools the weapons scatter... The people break.

The tears fall. The cries escape.

when we fight, we fight like lions..

She lays there, her breaths shallow as the yells and sounds echo. She has tears falling as she grips the photo in her hands. It'll be okay, she whispers tiredly. She doesn't want to die. Choking up blood her hand shaking raises towards the sky.

Her time is coming. She's dying.

She can see death walking to her. She's losing her consciousness.

heart made of glass, my mind if stone... tear me to pieces, skin and bone....

Hello, welcome home

The fight has ended....

Was our victory worth it?

To open the door to continue forward?

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it home