Post by zianorak on Feb 21, 2008 3:20:08 GMT
He raised his sword high,
fighting to stay his steed.
Letting loose a feral call,
carried off on the breeze
And after his loud cry,
they are off, a stampede.
Upon his horse, so tall,
riding forth with ease.
No one hears his sigh,
as he mutters his creed.
Giving up their all,
so that they might please.
Birds of death fly,
their calls, the men heed.
For all the men fall.
In death they will freeze.
As dusk draws nigh,
all hope will recede.
Despair will pall,
for freedom is a tease.
fighting to stay his steed.
Letting loose a feral call,
carried off on the breeze
And after his loud cry,
they are off, a stampede.
Upon his horse, so tall,
riding forth with ease.
No one hears his sigh,
as he mutters his creed.
Giving up their all,
so that they might please.
Birds of death fly,
their calls, the men heed.
For all the men fall.
In death they will freeze.
As dusk draws nigh,
all hope will recede.
Despair will pall,
for freedom is a tease.