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