Where does my courage form,
if not from the belly of despair?
Where does my strength bread,
so to turn me into something magnificent.
I am the founder of glory,
the giver of greatness.
I have a stoic heart, washed in the blood of my
enemies,
But I know no love,
and that kills me.
For  man with love only for himself,
is bound to an inexorable death.