Now, the ruler, the epic one of all
Standing straight and tall
Sits proud, on the wood throne
Soon... Only memories and stone
Now he stands, respected loved
Leaning on is cane, ready to drew blood
What is the use, if there is no one to fight?
No one to foil plans, no brave knight
Rain pours down, the grave you sit on
Your eyes see nothing, all is gone
Spirits passing, the sharp gaze
Words, become a maze
For you were brave and true
Now your soul grew empty...
Once full of ideals and plans
But now you see, your wrinkled hands
Howls of the brave rang in the wind
Victorious the war was at end
But this old warrior, will still stand…
To fight once again, and walk to is forefathers’ land
