riding on a horseback through land.
wearing a grey hood, in the dense wood,
holding royal sword in my hand.
With my sharp eyes & quick brain,
ready to die & ready to slain,
Children of land, will be hearing in songs,
about all of my glorious deeds.
Sometimes I save, sometimes I need to be
Sometimes I win, sometimes just lost in an
old dusty form.
But I fight with all my might,
in a way of my own.
Sometimes blood, sometimes flesh,
n' sometimes giving up my bones,
I won't grow up, I won't die,
I'll remain as same as today...
In every century I fight n' ride my horse,
in my unique, very own way!!!