Blood and gore surround the warrior
He doesn't even bat an eyelash
The world around him goes up in flames,
As his and the other one's swords clash
He has his life on the stake,
The bitter truth,
The voices will haunt him
Of the lives he will take.
But standing on the heap of someone's relatives,
He doesn't care for any other,
Than the land he stands so proudly on,
He is a proud native.
With each attack his life flashes in front of his eyes,
He attacks relentlessly,
There is red in his ledger,
He has cut all his bonds and ties.
The win brings ecstasy, he is a scion.
The land is his mother,
He knows no other.
The soldier has no mercy, just the heart of a lion.