Past recall the loss veterans had,
Their blood flowing like lust to encourage over hill tops,
Feelings of grief shook all the destiny thought before,
Icy touch to those dead bodies rejoice even with those human corpse.
Hopes recall those marters back,
Owls like spies prefer to make them lure and lob,
The grief shook all the plans thy thought before,
The icy touch is the evidence of dead bodies where no feelings might rob.
In the wind at the edge of mountains,
Nature salute those marters in it's own fountain,
Feeligs of dead and sacrificed rise again,
The Icy touch will recall all the times such boldness terrain.
In the blow flying above such hills,
Destroyed hopes retain the bravery's thrills,
Feelings of returning back to nation recall them,
The icy touch call them back glorifying those millitary drills.