A shield I hold in one,
A sword in another,
I follow the battle to the end.
Glowing, I leap into the air with rage.
I fear not.

A whack of cold wind passes.

The rage is lifted,
Something curious creeps in,
Death is emerging,
I fall to the ground,
I wait.

I feel the chimes of birds,
Flowing in the wind,
My eye's close shut.