A calming wind soothes bloody fields

Even clouds afraid to form

From a far a withered knight lies still

He has not conquered the storm

His breath one more closer to death

His eyes fixed on the sky

May God forgive his cunning blade

He did and not ask why

His lake of crimson grows with time

But time for him stands still

Nature’s love assuages hearts

And his began to fill

His evil deeds and noble causes

Swirl inside his mind

The grass is soft, his hands let go

His smile begins new life