Winter sun is rising
clear and bright and bleak
Ravens cawing, cawing,
crimson every leaf

Guns held at attention
Road runs to the east
soldiers marching, marching,
blood is in the trees

season’s death is nearing
winter brings the cold
soldier’s body lying
far away from home

lonely wolf is starving
amidst the icy snow
teeth like daggers biting
tearing flesh from bone

raven in the branches
crimson every leaf
meat held in his claw tips
blood is in the trees