In the frozen tundra, where whispers cease to breathe,
Shadows dance in silence, beneath the icy sheath.
The echoes of warriors, their tales left unsaid,
In the cold embrace of death, where the living dread.

Beneath the northern lights, where stars softly weep,
Souls drift like snowflakes, in an eternal sleep.
The rivers of sorrow, they silently flow,
Through the heart of Russia, where mourning winds blow.

Forgotten by time, in the vastness they lie,
The fallen heroes, beneath the wintry sky.
Their dreams now buried, in the frost-covered earth,
Memories of valor, and the silence of their worth.

In the land of the czars, where history is steep,
The silent echoes of death, in the shadows creep.
A symphony of silence, a requiem so grand,
The legacy of Russia, in death’s quiet hand.