I lie broken on the field
Bowed. Snapped in twain
Shattered from a final blow
Left rusting in the rain.

Once I stood proud
In my lord's strong hand
My ribbons proclaimed his mastery
Over this war-torn land.

Many I knight I unhorsed
Many a commoner spitted
Upon my point of steel
Against no equal was I pitted.

As the years wore on
I felt his grip grow weak
His hair, once black as blackest night
Now bore a silver streak.

With every year, my point
To the earth grew nearer
And as his vision failed
Mine grew ever clearer.

I think he knew he rode
To the fight that was his end
For he touched me tenderly
And whispered "My old friend!"

Still he rode with head held high
Though I wavered in his hand
And still he was a force of light
Against that evil band.

I felt him slow and hesitate
And he failed to raise his shield
He and I we fell together
Upon the rain-soaked field.

He lies broken on the field
Unbowed, I'm pleased to say.
A smile upon his cold dark lips
He now rests in a happier day.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Ero, in the year 398 AF.