Under a cold, starry heavenly vault
Treading on old, icy land made of salt
Lies your body, my dear child, immobile.
Regrettably, your heart was so noble,
Regrettably for we had to cross path,
O destiny! How cruel is your wrath!
So young a life that you have made me take,
Such bloody trail that I leave in my wake…
A hundred years, no, perhaps a thousand,
Far too early you were to ever hope
To clash with me head to head and to cope
With my power, to not meet a foul end,
You may be strong but you are full of pride
And ignorant of the ways of the world,
Like a lion which never stained its hide,
Logically, events have thus unfurled…