My father is my owner, teaching me to kill
My mother is the crowd. boasting of my greatness to all
The gates open, we charge out like wolves 

Born a slave
Turned into a butcher
The crowd is thirsty for blood.

                                                          My sword is my friend gleaming in the scorching sun.
                                                          it never betrays me or brings me harm                                                       
my armor is my wife, always by my side
it never runs or allows me harm  
my sword slashes through another.
                                                         
                                                            my master is near…waiting
always following me...and waiting
till I breath my final breath, 
I am a slave of death.