The Last One


Whether you arrive in defeat or victory
In the end you can at least see everything clearly

The last battles fought with violent passion
Blood spilt, staining the ground dark crimson
When it was over, looking around
Searching for him, there his lifeless body on the ground
Death wrapped around him like a snake around its prey
His eyes fading to a deeper and deeper gray
Never wanting to let him go
Nonetheless, his breathing continued to slow
He quietly slips to the other side
Leaving me on the battlefield, alone on the outside


Through the misty fog of battle,
The wind whistles over the dead,
Making the saber still brattle,
Hear the cry of the of the fallen,
The crackle of charring remain,
But still, one can hear your pain.
For worse then your soul taken dread,
Is to be the only one left undead.