I want to follow the wind.
Let it lead my way.
Show me the worlds beauty.
Find me a place to stay.

Instead I follow my sword.
In honour and in glory.
In death and in defeat.
Fighting my way up.
All the way up to a higher seat.

Complex is my mind.
Living with two sides.
A coin constantly thrown up.
On which side will it land?

I enjoy the finer things.
Yet I destroy them with my own hand.
Watch them grow a new.
From it’s own dust within the sand.

Enemies die, allies fall.
Death comes to us all.
Fire burns the land in war.
Blood feeds the land a new.
The present is here, the future is far.
Tomorrow is only for a few.

Some things must be done.
Some things will remain a dream.
Not always are things what they seem.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Aeguary, in the year 367 AF.