The last of Evening's Light graces my escaping Soul,
Echo-ing memories ripple through my broken Mind,
The fire glows dim as ember within my empty Heart,

Angels deserve a will to cry...
Heroes deserve a right to bleed...
Soilders deserve the time to rest...

And yet I hold to my sword, gripping it with will,
I raise my sheild, holding it with spirit
There is no time for me...

Ask me a reason, I fight for you
Far beyond my grasp, I reach for you
Falling, only to rise again

I whisper...
Without holding the sword, I cannot protect you,
But while holding the sword, I cannot embrace you...