It's tohu va bohu,
Warrior's battlescape.
Steels crash-- as swords clash,
In this chaos, men cease.
The Soldier raging roars,
He's got a spear lodged deep.
Surreal still sticking out,
Just nine feet of his death.
Strong jaw, his teeth are grit,
There's still fighting to do.
He takes the haft in hand,
Steely tightened grapple.
A devil's strength he pulls,
Metal leaves flesh's hold.
The clock is running now,
Life's blood is dripping out.
Whether ideal or rage,
Throws death back to dealer.
It sails to find its mark,
Technical perfection.
Metal greets flesh again,
A penetrating point.
The killer's weaker heart,
Just cannot stand the blow.
Tick tock clock runs down now,
But battle rages still.
Thoughts of wholesome cliches,
They seem so dear and far.
Grasps his sword from the ground,
Pain's muddy implement.
Holding it to practice,
Pain screams, and so does he.
Charge.
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