Many a times, at the end of a trying day,
In the depths of cool, soothing night, I wish.
I wish to lay my weapons down, take a day off.
To rest my weary eyes, heavy from countless sleepless nights,
To rest my leaden arms, to wipe my sweat-drenched brow.
But right then, my dreams are charred away,
By a celestial gleam on the eastern horizon.
Along comes the war cries of the coming day.
Spears and arrows of the challenges
Yet-to-be-faced, feats yet-to-be-achieved,
Trained at me, glinting in the blood red sunrise.
The hour of twilight has passed,
I go to war again.
A diabolical smile to shield myself with,
Armed with a luminous blade,
And with a deafening war cry of my own....