• Battlel Chimes

    Chimes, chimes
    sond in the far off distance,
    like shells and coins colliding,
    colliding together.
    Forward we charge, most on foot,
    while some are mounted on steads.
    Regardless of their disposition,
    I can hear their feet pound,
    pound in place of their hearts.
    The pounding fades,
    fades into the distance.
    While chimes, chimes,
    bekon in my ears,
    like shells and coins coliding,
    coliding together.
    Even though I lead,
    the revolt,
    I'm but a nonentity,
    I'm but a nonentity,
    amongst the bestial enemy.
    As the enemies approch,
    their glowering squat figures,
    seem to merge before my eyes,
    before my eyes they are a blur.
    I close them,
    I close them,
    and let my stead,
    carry me to them.
    Swords clash,
    clash as do the chimes,
    the chimes that sound in the far off distance,
    like shells and coins colliding,
    colliding together.
    It signifies that my fate,
    my fate is soon at hand.
    Hands moving so quickly,
    so swiftly.
    The blades of my swords kiss,
    kiss their flesh,
    leaving their distaneful mark,
    leaving their blood to flow.
    To flow like the chimes,
    The chimes that sound in the far off distance,
    like shells and coins colliding,
    colliding together.