I have lived for far too long.
I have fought every battle,
Defeated all who did not flee
And yet also watch all my allies fall.
I have searched,
Blade in hand, ready, waiting
For an opponent
Who will give me an acceptable death
I was vibrant in youth
My blade flourishing in light
But with the youth left finesse
Sometimes I don’t even want to fight.
But fight I must,
Honor-bound and beholden
To a pitiful lord and his child
Who can’t even lift half the weight of my blade
And I have fought for far too long.
My bones, brittle and breaking
My blade dulling and aging
And my third horse dying one the battlefield.
One last strike, another man gone.
No other blade has been brought down this day…
Then I feel hit with the power of lightning,
And suddenly, I fall to my knees.
This was not the death I sought.
A man with a rifle took the last of my strength.
He probably could not see the look in my eyes,
As their strength grows weak.
One final chance for honor,
I am on my knees.
My blade held high and ready,
Before a final blow was struck.
I did not die honorably.
I did not get what I had sought.
An acceptable death…
This was not.