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D/s Director
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| Pain does not need flesh
Its score is sung by your stroke
Be it sword or word |
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| Pain is not the same
It is not flesh ripped and rent
Your foe is not dead
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Trust me, most of the names I have been called you can't translate in any language. They're not even real words so much as they're a succesion of violent images. |
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D/s Director
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| Must one exact death?
Will victory be less sweet?
Albeit fleeting... |
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| Death insures victory
Dead foes don't retaliate
No flesh shall be spared
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Trust me, most of the names I have been called you can't translate in any language. They're not even real words so much as they're a succesion of violent images. |
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D/s Director
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| What of the foe's friend?
Will they not strike vengeful blows?
How much blood will sate? |
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| Let their allies come
One man or one hundred men
It's a small matter
You have asked of me
How much blood shall sate my view
It is no hunger
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Trust me, most of the names I have been called you can't translate in any language. They're not even real words so much as they're a succesion of violent images. |
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| body's survival
existence, but at what cost?
death has many forms |
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| That can be quite true
When they can not lift their arms
Then they are truly dead
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Trust me, most of the names I have been called you can't translate in any language. They're not even real words so much as they're a succesion of violent images. |
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| where to draw the line?
why go on fighting when war's
already finished?
wish i were a bird
no one tells them when to fly
somehow they just know |
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| The war shall proceed
Until all are safe beneath
the flag of Usiel
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Trust me, most of the names I have been called you can't translate in any language. They're not even real words so much as they're a succesion of violent images. |
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