War of This Sad Land

They practise their guns on the land of the innocence, these loathsome creatures wipe out the lines of our army, now we are what left to secure this homeland, "Come forth my soldiers" the cry of war is heard from leagues away, we pierce these wind-lances through their corroded hearts with wrath , inferno burns the heart of the city, as we guard behind this ineluctable vile scene like a vault, keeping these lives we call treasure hoard, forged iron weapons as our blades as we stand behind this door waiting for the beasts, we wail our swords in valor but we are disdained in return, are they blind, do they not see our courage, in the vast hall the tyrannical emperor sits proud in his throne, with a crown on his head, riven by greed he covets this land as much as we want to secure it, usurper we call him, his eyes instil terror to every man, he curses the flame of war upon us, he wishes ill upon my people, his soldiers swimming in blood, drinking copious amount of alcohol as celebration to our folks death, our cerulean sea pollute as if there is sickness lies upon it, It redden and darken as season changes, our people are driven mad by grief as we scream for mercy, cadence they say our screams are as we cowered in terror, distraught by this desolation and mangling towards our kin and home, we stifled by this thick air where no healthsome air to breathe in, we could not foretell but we yet still survive this, we do not linger behind shadows, stench from these shrouded victims open our eyes, where is the reverence we once deserved, bairns swear vangeance, cut the head of the snake and you shall be free from this grief.