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We remember how tough the way was,

to find where the river ends.

We found hundreds of deaths,

floating under the old bridge.

Fallen leaves on our way back home,

told us how dark the day was.

The grey skies began to cry,

the howling wind embraced the sorrow.

The fortress of silence stood,

to hide the pain and the will of revenge.

Hundreds of headstones served,

with their names engraved.

To solace the ghosts,

with their names engraved.