The boat lifts its rope,
And the waves singing along with the swordmaster,
The mountains smiles as he sparks those snows,
The swordsman felt asleep and drawn in his imagination,

The sword is like an art to him,
Because it's only permanent during the battle,
He cannot even control its eyes,
Because the swords eyes more sharp than his move,
The prince show up and shouted,
"swordsmanship not always good within the eyes",

And he blinks, any word does not work in his mind,
And he realised the bleeding heart symbols had cut,
The swords waked him up ,
To stand and walk through the winters,
To survive and being one,

Being one's of Prince swordsman,
Who survived the winter battles,
To leave the historic, tragic battles,
Within the swords, prince and him,
That save it's country,
Before the arrival of devil's hand,
That's destroyed everything whom prince had left to his country,


© writerturk