Standing tall, head held high.
Fix my eyes upon the sky.
Draw my blade from its sheath.
Nearly done, I cant be beat.
Slicing down with speed and might.
Blood flies in the cold lit night.
Visions of the past, run through my head.
As my enemies blade grazes my head.
He is dead, down on the ground.
Then I fall without a sound.
All I see is white, as my vision fades.
Honorably I die, by my enemies Blade.
