On a frigid, freezing winter morning
The final warrior kneels exhausted,
Covered in blood as the sun is dawning
Raising sword, he rises from his haunches.
Through the aftermath of his own onslaught
He ambles bloodied, broken and beaten,
Yet another battle needs to be fought
With another horde of raging heathens,
Digging deep, he finds strength he never knew
To swing his sword with the power of god,
With the sole intention to see it through
So one day he may be able to stop.

Frost-bitten and alone, he pushes on
For he’s seeking a place to retire,
Exhaustion’s no longer all that is wrong
He succumbed in the last battle-fire,
To a sword in the ribs, below the heart
But he alone is the one still standing,
Are now the rewards of battle to start?
With an angels prelude, serenading.
Eye-lids grow heavy, soon darkness will fall
No chance in hell that he’ll ever cower,
Silently mutters his last battle call
Cause for him it is finally over.
31/05/08 ADO

© Copyright 2008
Adam Parker
All Rights Reserved
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