More jobless days.. brings out the mood of poetry in me.. Time to wax eloquence or at least try,
The warrior stands his ground
The thoughts in his mind abound
What makes him fight, makes him kill
He has no answers, it's all a drill
He looks to the heavens, dawn skies crimson red
Not in prayer, but a smirk that mocks the gods
The battlefield soil red soaked in yesterday's blood
The dust rises as the wind blows across the armies
Seems to muddle his spirit, raises many doubts
What's right, what's wrong
He looks into his soul
But its a gaping hole
His enemies are many, He takes out his sword
It is the keeper of their destinies
He raises high his sword, his men to see
The blade flashes, blinding his enemies and cold steel
The last thing they will all feel
He kisses the blade, its a slayer
Slain by it, You will get no prayer
He lets out a scream, ready, his men follow
Knows victory is on his side
Alas! he's dead inside.
