• Crimson Tears flow from the lifeless eyes,
    To mingle with the endless sands of time,
    Bestowing greater power upon the lone warrior.

    So silence little child,
    For alas,
    The last samurai weeps.

    His weapon lays broken and forgotten by his side,
    His armor is heavy,
    As if he bore the world upon his shoulders.

    He removes his helmet,
    It falls to the ground,
    Breaking the cool, crisp winter air.

    He looks down,
    An endless river of blood swells around him;

    His throat is silent,
    His eyes are drenched,
    His mouth is dry;

    He wails a silent, lonely, wail,
    Turns and walks away.