A specter born of smoke and steel
Its grip is felt its wrath is real
Through forests black and oceans wide
It drags the world with every stride
Its breath is fire its pulse decay
It carves the night it clouds the day
No force can halt no hand can guide
The convoi’s path the end presides
It feeds on hope it drinks our pain
A marching storm a cursed chain
With hollow cries we fall in line
Bound to its will by dark design
Forever bound
Through barren lands its hunger grows
No mercy given no one knows
Where it began where it will end
The convoi bends and all must bend
A shadowed tide a crushing weight
It twists our fate it seals our state
Forever bound to its cruel reign
The convoi lives
