I've waged my wars.
My spear is broken, my sword it dull and my shield lay in ruins at my side.
I'm caked in blood and dirt and the sweat running into my eyes stings almost as much as knowing that if returned to the ship and sailed home, no feast would await me.
There is no port teaming with people to welcome my ship back to dock, there's is only empty pastures and silent days.
My appendages are numb and the only thing that keeps me fighting is the hope that someone will **** me
Drive your sword through my chest and peirce a lung.
Let me choke on every breath and feel the sting of my sins
I know I've killed so many while carrying no banner
I have no tribe
I have no village
I have no home


Just the burning pain of the blade in my side, and deaths sweet whisper in my ear
I'm ready
Place me on my sheild, burn my corpse, I don't care
I've fought for too long, I just didn't think it would be my sword that felled me