• In a swordman's life there's only two things that matter, his life and his honor.
    His skills of legendary caliber. Mutilating all amateur, in his perimeter.
    Adrenaline flowing. Pupils dialating. Sword swings, ending all vital beings.
    A forgotten samurai, he lives off the land. Takes what he can, trying not to die.
    Land where water meets the sand. Walks a fine line, between, desolate, life
    and death.
    His honor disowned, no home to call his own. Zoning out for the symbol of hope.
    For every day that passes, his hope diminishes, only to reflame when each night ceases.
    Misery of his forgotton dream, daily, abuses and fiends, bleeding liquidated self esteem.
    Dwelling among past battle scenes, depression intervenes, as long as blood runs through his veins, his life will burn like kerosine.