A warrior throws his spear into the sand
And staggers towards the sea
Where the wraiths await the wounded
Away from the scarred battlefield

Almost dead is he, his life-blood flowing
But his courage not failing-life is over anyhow
Perchance he will get his revenge
Before his face is stilled, bloodless

The deadly wraith, the shape-shifter
Ah, how eerie his cloak billows!
As he looks out of the hollows of his eyes
Dead bent on the kill, the scare

Wraithling! You cannot frighten me
Already have I been mortally wounded;
My life is all but spent, my fright is no more
Because the rules are different for dead men.