By: Kryon Posted on: December 21, 2004
The thrill of victory, the painful wounds, the glory of their defeat
Jesters, Shamans, and those alike shall all become my meat.
Fearful consequences come to me, the loss is all too real
Without it comes no sacrifice, no craving that next meal.
In a flash I release my anger, my sorrow and my song.
No sinking feeling in my gut to tell me that it's wrong.
And if I die without my leave, and pass away undue
You can bet, you will regret, the fate you've brought me to.
Now as I stand, above your corpse, and you lose part of your soul
I cant help, but make a note "This all had been fortold."
I take your head, for you rest dead, you have no more to see
That is the price, to roll the dice, with those Bards such as me.
The path I chose, as you have learned, was that of death and fear
Through Blade and Voice I do rejoice, and take those who would jeer.
For we are artists, tried and true, and some of us are meek
Within our ranks, we hold our troops to fight, as well as speak