death can not win for I now dwell in the palace of decay


A change of pace, an unwelcome opening to who he was before.
His own mind betrays him and he is placed back into this pool.
Head spinning, dizzy, eyes defying what truth they once held
All visions of glory turn and flee at what beast now approach
Apprehensive, Submissive, Attentive, Await the moment
He will have his chance, his moment, the time is coming
Strike the blade when the beast is unready, unaware
Down it quick, before it can call for its allies
And watch as it suffers, victory is now yours
It falters, falls, fails, meeting with defeat
And you stand, your glory returned
Was it worth it, was it earned
A Champion so cheap
What rewards do you reap
You have no glory
You have no soul
Scoundrel
Slave
you bound yourself

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Daedalan, in the year 511 AF.