Weight of the Sword

The Twelve Trails of redemption

A tale of a land since passed

Chocked in blackness a warrior steps forward

With the dice of fate long since cast

His heart is mired with water

Drowned in the place of uncertainty

Trapped within a hollow half-life

Far from the place he wants to see

Lost within the pressure

He inhales poison evermore

His sword arm keeps on faltering

In fear of the demon that surely waits in store

Each second becomes a battle

Every step becomes a mile

With bated breath he holds his ground

To struggle against the course of time

A single thing is all he wants

There is but one object to which he aspires

So even if his blood runs cold as ice

He will fight for what his heart desires