I don’t flinch at the mountain’s roar,
Nor tremble when the cold winds soar.
But deep inside, a fire grows wild
Not hate, but fury, sharp and riled.

They struck in dark, without a face,
Left brothers broken in this place.
Their laughter echoed past the smoke,
While we stood still, our orders spoke.

We buried them with folded flags,
But not our rage, it hangs and drags.
I saw his eyes, my closest friend
Go dim with dreams he’d never send.

“Hold your line,” the captains say,
“War is not the soldier’s way.”
Then tell me, why do we still bleed,
While cowards plant their poison seed?

I’m bound, yes, bound by rules and law,
While they spit fire without a flaw.
Our hands are tied behind the veil,
Yet they unleash the devil’s hail.

I ache to cross that cursed gate,
To answer blood with fury straight.
But here I stand, in silence caged,
A soldier torn, a heart enraged.

They think restraint makes us weak,
Let them hear the truth I speak:
We hold back not from lack of might,
But out of honour, forged in light.

Yet don’t mistake this calm as peace,
This fire in me will never cease.
One day, the chain may snap apart,
And justice rise from every heart.