Far above the village walls,
A mountain reaches for the sky,
And on this cliff, with form that's carved,
Quietly watching from their height ,
A dream they built with all their might;
The Fire Shadows of old.
With stony gaze and visage scarred,
They stare across the fields of time
Returning from the long ago
To watch a fire burning bright;
A flame in future's darkest night
And leaves dancing in the wind.
A dream they built with hopes and tears
And bitter pain and toil and blood.
Their crimson jewel amid the strife;
A beacon shining a ray of hope.
For this they fought; for this they coped
And early died the death of heroes.
And now they linger high above
To ever remind the living
That they still watch, they still believe
In them, to do what must be done
To protect their children and their home.
It is still their solemn duty.
No life they have, no sound they make
But still, long remember, traveler;
The leaves will dance while they still stand
The peace they fashioned, the fire they sti