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This man, once a warrior of great stature. |
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I cannot leave him behind, so |
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I carefully lay him on the back of my horse. |
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And then I notice the royal emblem. |
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With this knowledge |
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I return, to the small wooden church. |
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So he might be given the proper burial he deservers. |
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Then my senses pick up the stench of burning flesh. |
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I see a yellow glare ahead. |
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Screams that slowly fade away. |
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A nightmare has unfolded itself. |
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This horror can't be a coincidence. |
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And thus it burns, the church where |
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I sheltered for the hail, the doors seem locked. |
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The saints, whose songs soothed me, were killed by a blazing fire. |
