Found an old journal when I was cleaning out my room a few days ago.
Don't know how old these are (probably a few years), but I found them written in it.

Over The Mountains
Over the mountains high and low
Lies my long and forgotten home
If it takes me years and years
I'll find my unfound happiness there

Of rivers winding to the sky
And a splash of stars in the dark blue night
Trees which wear their crowns of pride
And the whisper of a winter's sigh

Over the mountains east and west
I'll find myself a place of rest
Where the blanket snow will silence noise
And comforts all the longing cries

Of late nights around a crackling fire
And the chant of song and lore we never tire
Days we spend trekking the valleys afar
Not tragedy nor death shall take my home apart

Over the mountains high and low
Lies my long and forgotten home
If it takes me years and years
I'll find my unfound happiness there

Battlefield
I guess our pasts are like a battlefield
Littered with bodies bruised broken battered, forever lifeless
We're left picking through the rubble of forgotten faces
Blood and flesh stain our soles, bile rises up our throats
...oh so tasteless.

Whether truimph over victory? or mourn over loss?
The blank faces of enemies long gone, beaten and done
Winning's no joy, when the battle's all hurt and no fun
Smiling, frozen faces of friends faded, baked dry by the sun
Your fingers trace their shape, their face, your heart weighs a ton

The rising moon casts a translucent light; you pause.
You lift your sword; you're blinded by the glint of light
You remember fighting, you remember laughing,
crying,
But you can't remember it right.
Now it's over, the damage you've done, the fights you've won,
all in sight.
Tired soldier, head heavy on his shoulders,
lay your head down to rest tonight.