I feel it, there then I close my eyes, there as I sit and pray, there as clean my weapons, the darkness I let in, the holes in my soul. I sit and wonder if they'll ever heal or do I keep them open, my part as a warrior may not yet be done, the few I love may need me to pick up my weapon and wear my armor again, to shed my and my enemies blood, to once again be a soldier a warrior. I push my body to exhaustion I must stay strong, to fall into decay and disuse, know they need my strength, I can never quit I refuse to let the few people that matter to in this world calls for help go unanswered and so I clean my weapons I check my armor I train my body, and I pray that what's left of soul will be strong enough when the time comes
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