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Behold the man who stands alone.
The swordsman who waits and watches.
Staring at shadows. Watching time fly.
He cannot wait to die.

Ages pass and still he stands.
Waiting for his foe's sword, unsheathed, to clash with his own.
He stands, anxious, scared.
Undefeated.
But he knows he cannot win.

Countless swords lay across the field.
Flags from countries, promises broken.
Memories of dead men and women haunt his field of vision.
Friends long lost. Fathers, mothers, who died fighting for their kin.
Brothers. Lovers. Sisters. Mothers.
Fathers. Teachers. Students. Preachers.

Come one, come all, alongside or alone,
Share a tomb now, birthed in stone.
Bred by fire. Slept in water.
Buried in ice. Consumed by light.

Stands now, the warrior, bold.
Shadows catch his face and hold
His stance tight, a living stone.

He recalls the ones who fell in his path.
Friends, foes, no soul now hath
The capability to light this fire.
Illuminate the blazing path,
Deep within the murky mire.

Blood and oil stain the ground.
Fouled the air, his soul has found.
Unbreakable, unshakable, unmistakable.
Terror stricken, a man not wake-able.

Stuck within his dreams confined,
His reality a song, un-timed.
Shadows dance a haunting beat.
A melody does softly cheat
This man from the stillness of his feet,
A gentle tapping it does entreat.

As shadows dance, he takes a glance.
A moment passes, and his unshakable stance,
His stare. His heart. His very soul.
Do crash down, or so I'm told.
Another tale comes to an end.
Another life that times does spend.

What's the morale you may ask?
Don't waste your life standing still.
Don't move too quick, you're sure to kill
Time itself, and leave no favor.
Life will begin to fast lose flavor.

It's kill or be killed, or so they say.
I do believe they must to pray
Their souls be untouched by a trap,
Because they're all just full of crap.