Amidst the din of battle, a soldier stands
His eyes aglow with fervor and with might
His sword unsheathed, his steed asunder ran

His heart beats wild with an untamed delight
For he is but a man of noble stock
And duty calls him to avenge the night

The enemy he smites with every knock
Of his blade, with every thrust and parry
For his honor and his kin, he'll not balk.

But as he fights and sweet revenge doth carry
The tears of loss do fall upon his cheek
For every life he dewlaps, all too merry.

And as the sun descends, and day doth eke
To twilight, flares the passion in his heart
For through the battlefield, he'll always seek

To quell the foes who tear his life apart.
Alas, his wrath is but a fleeting spark.