Maintaining his blood sword
A hero who fights without hesitancy, for his lord
And executes with honor
Even if he falls
In the interior of a battle hall
His name will stay on
Swords, and stealths used violently
Attacks, fights and wars silently
Sneaky as a snake
Battlefields with honors
Bodies laying, blood shedding with no names spoken
A powerful siege of new government broken
As time flies, he walks alone in a world he does not belong
For an honor its more than a simple word
More than any blade that could be held up to the sun and shine
Individually designed to let one's soul run free
While it may not be as strong as the mighty gun
It's a thousand times more pure
As for the light from our swords is created by our souls
Obeying his lord,
With honor, and respect
A single shame to be shown,
Will confine his power and respect
And a fight without success will cost the price of the safety of the lord
Weakness being his biggest nightmare
His honor is his dream, passion, and who he is
His blurriness and blindness positions his roads
Far more important than his destination itself
Today the art of war is dry without honor,
But a name well known is history itself
