riding through the woods,
rain wildly taping on his tip chest,
and wrapping around every bare part of his body.
Long dark hair wipping in the wind.
Hearing nothing but screams coming from just ahead.
Trying to forget the harsh pain on his bare face.
Finally bursting through the woods,
breathing so hard he can hardly sit,
ripping the sharp sword from its holder,
saying he will not give up,
for his loved one is in need.
charging, screaming so loudthat it is all you can hear.
Raising his sword above his head,
he leaped off his horse,
just to have his foe stab him through the heart.
He fell to his knees,
taking his last breath,
dropped the sword to the ground,
and died a nobel man.
