The warrior picks up his silver blade in the dark misty night,
The smell of blood is in the air, bringing a feeling of spite,
The next target on his list could be the one that's his last,
For the next fighter on this list is in a whole 'nother class,
He steps into the alley under the glimmer of the stars,
He exposes his face, showing off his battle scars,
His eyes lock with his rivals, and in an instant flash,
He finds himself thrusting in a forward dash,
What to do, what to do, where should I strike next,
This warrior's movement is so complex,
But before he can move he is struck with sword,
A blow even his body could not afford,
He lies on the ground in a puddle of blood,
Thoughts in his mind begin to flood,
But the last thought on his mind before he would die,
Was that it was not so bad to die a samurai.