Again I take up my shield and sword,
I don my armour, my spiritual ward,
Prepare for a battle my heart deplored,
To fight or die for the honour of my lord.
Into the precious day I rode abroad,
Hit with a wall of sound as the crowd applaud.
The helmeted knight on his horse, how I'm adored!
Don't they understand I wear this mask to be ignored?
I wave as they cheer, upon me their praise is poured,
Inside I shrivelled and to the three gods I implored,
Please take me this time of my own accord.
At last I was through the gates and onto the plain,
Surrounded by knights who to their horses gave rein,
As we charged through and across and into the rain,
Of blood and death and screams of pain.
How many will fall in this demented campaign?
I laughed as I rode into death's domain,
My mind unhinged and violent, the battle insane.
The enemy mages, studiers of magic arcane,
Called lightning down and created walls of flame,
Summoned creatures or raised the dead using arts profane,
Yet they fell to my sword, as the Three ordain.
I am their Ordinator, their taciturn knight,
I have sworn to defend and for them I fight,
To uphold their honour and prove their might,
Yet my soul grows weary and my heart contrite,
At the things I have done in the name of their spite.
I was once so sure of what was wrong or right,
And I still ride into battle with great delight,
But the time has come to be myself, forthright,
To alter my future and my fate rewrite.
A warriors end was plainly in sight,
So I cast off my armour and entered the light.
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