What it means to be Ignatius.
To fight through fire to get what you desire
To be cast down to burn but always endure
To learn not to cry but to tame the flames
What it means to be Ignatius, is that once the furnace decides to encase, we will smile and do nothing but embrace.

Low down in the dirt and silt,
Buried hatchet, blade and hilt,
Armor without sparkling gold,
Body taken o'er by mold.

'Tis the flesh and blood of him,
Ignatius, whose body dim.
But mind so sharp it cut through tin,
Forgotten now by all his kin.

Forgotten by himself, as well,
All't remains; the bronzen bell.
That rang when beastly men he fell
And sent nations to fiery hell:

He died not as he lived before,
Not on the fields of battle evermore;
Killed, he was, by a simple thing:
A mind destroyed by a ceaseless ring.

And thus, all that remains are the corpses,
The blood and gore, the slain forces.
And a man who could not be destroyed,
Lest it be by his own body.

But we shant forget the legacy
We shall compose a threnody
For to forget is but heresy
Remember our simple knight.