|
Stained he feels, as the day turns to night |
|
the man once strong, feared and bold, now just tired, weak and old |
|
Past is haunting his trail to the end |
|
the walls laugh at his grief, the wraiths of past haunt him so deep |
|
He writes the words of regret, |
|
for every victim of his blade, for every selfish act of hate |
|
Hours of terror, the screams of the innocent |
|
Murders unordered, will follow him to the grave |
|
Last days of this man unforgiven |
|
His heart starts to understand |
|
honoring the dead is to live again |
|
but the one mans burden remains. |
|
Heavens wear black, his mind won't rest |
|
the water he drinks runs rotten, the eyes of the other impale him. |
|
Left alone in the end! Darkness surrounds him |
|
to end his life as a warrior, he reaches the sword he used to hold |
|
Last days of this man unforgiven |
|
His heart start to understand |
|
to honour the dead is to die aswell, |
|
will the one man's burden still remain |
|
in death? |
|
Confused soul, The moment for final blow, |
|
the steal grows cold in the old mans hands, his thoughts are a raving storm. |
