Like a shroud of the virgin mother.
Silence echoes through the ivory halls,
Until it is gently absorbed by time.
Gentle notes of inspiration.
Caress both my ears and soul.
Sunlight glimmers from my oiled sword,
And ponderous armor hangs on my shoulders.
Muscles complains as I rise,
Knees groan and joints snap with a wince.
This hand wields the church�s weapon,
Forged in fire and bathed in blood.
The other holds the crested shield
That protects both my heart
And my immortal soul.
These spires reach to God.
Arches and columns inspired by his glory.
No man dare stand before me.
I am justice, I am law.
My god, the only god,
Will lay you low by my hand.
Bow before me, before God.
Refuse all you have known.
I will enlighten your life,
Or end it with a single blow.