My throat, raw and dry,
Sweat falls on my face,
But I must stay focused
Or I will fall in disgrace
Staring down my moral enemy,
Thinking nothing but the blood to come,
Then he strikes at me, an high attack,
Then my soul and body becomes one.
A strike here and there and everywhere,
Threatening to strike a mortal blow
But my mind intensifies and I concentrate,
And I come attacking, my eyes, aglow
In the rush of the battle,
I forget everything and let my rage go
And I set myself for an mortal strike,
Getting caught in the flow.
A parry and a block low,
Then I deliver my killing blow,
Sending him to heaven itself
And I smile, a smile, within myself,
And I walk off the bloody fields
Holding in my hand, my mighty sword and shield...
