With blood shot eyes,
And tear soaked hands,
Shan't bow beneath a sword.
With weary hearts,
And broken bonds,
Let our heaven gain its reward.
For the tales of old,
With lives long past.
My brothers dead and gone.
I'll follow them,
The honors path,
And hear them sing these words.
With truest cry
I knelt and prayed,
For blood was on my hands.
And the willows whispered
This to me,
Let go and awaken man.
I held the hearts
Of thousands, then,
And life was yet to be.
But, apart, they became,
And I forgot them not,
But they shan't remember me.
Oh, Lady, my Lady,
Sing to me,
The tales of older times.
For, but once, again I'll see,
And my soul renewed to thee.
See my heart was true to thee.
Now my heart is gone,
My tears are dry,
My body bathed in blood.
I'll hear their songs
As they remembered me,
A cruel and forsaken lore.
