Final Stand at Acre

Smoke curls over Acre's shattered walls. Saracen steel floods the breach like flame.

We stand in the ruin, brother shoulder bound. Blood in the dust,

calling God by name. Arrows scream like demons in a burning

sky. But we hold the line till our lungs run dry.

Here at Acre, we make our final stand. Every night a fortress,

every breath a prayer. Outnumbered, broken, yet we will

not flee. For we swore our life, life. To the cross

and sea.