A knight of old,
Walk this path.
Armor ice cold,
A sword’s wrath.
He looks ahead,
To see his fate.
A sword covered in red,
"Is this deaths weight?"
Falling to his knees,
and starting to cry,
As he gets seized.
"Am I going to die?"
They hold him tight,
Accuse him wrong.
Saying "this isn’t right,"
As the crow sings his death song.
They lock him away,
The executer comes.
Is this the day?
While hearing the drums.
No one cries,
Yet he feels no offend.
He close his eyes,
As it all ends.
Walk this path.
Armor ice cold,
A sword’s wrath.
He looks ahead,
To see his fate.
A sword covered in red,
"Is this deaths weight?"
Falling to his knees,
and starting to cry,
As he gets seized.
"Am I going to die?"
They hold him tight,
Accuse him wrong.
Saying "this isn’t right,"
As the crow sings his death song.
They lock him away,
The executer comes.
Is this the day?
While hearing the drums.
No one cries,
Yet he feels no offend.
He close his eyes,
As it all ends.