When I reminisce about all those years, I see many things.
Life and death strung together like the mountains and valleys in which we lived.
There was wealth and opulence, but also tribulation and loss.
There was laughter and ong, and there was also tears.

But even more than tears, blood was shed.
And so many were left to their unadorned graves, unburied.
But to us, death was but another journey.
And close by the darkness through which we strode, there was also light.
The Light of life and immortality.

And after all, when I reminisce about those years, I mostly remember our songs.
We sang as if to drown out the sound of clashing swords,
as if the battle cries fell silent.
Because war had lost its meaning.