I dip my finger in the still warm blood
of my enemy who tried to destroy me
the dance of the fight was grand
blades clashing in anger
and the passion of our fury in the ballroom
was that of two lovers locked in lust
alas, one fell dead under my hand
and the red wine spilled from his goblet
dripping sticky blood from his laceration
that pierced his heart
and the gold and riches of all factes of life
flowed for the victor
a foul wealth from the life of another it can bring you all you ever dreamed
but it can take away so much more
young men with fresh lives
march onto the battle field
with deadly blade in hand
and they slaughter brothers they have never met
aye, fools with a vision of glory
but the vision they see
slaps them in the face with the horror of death
and the blood that stains their hands
will never leave their flesh
it is a battle of the mind
that will never end
guilt for the guilty
and I stand over my enemy
with the mortal gash through his chest
I wipe my blade and move onto the next
who try and take my life
standing sword to sword
taking yet another life and moving on
stopping when my heart beats no more.