Look, Guts, to yonder crow
And see the carnage on the hill.
Be strong and silent, my good friend
Bold and brash, to quiet still.
Alas I see a boy of ten
I know that he is of the band
Blood and bone protrude from skin
With metal sword still in his hand
I see his dream: Become a knight
And so I made his wish fulfilled
So, overjoyed, and under-ripe
The Reaper picked him as his kill
I want to tell myself today
That all is good and well today
But I can't, I simply can't today!
For that boy's blood was shed today
And innocence was swept away
Not from him,
No, from me,
My soul is pierced
And now it bleeds
Who counts or knows
The many more atrocities
I might proceed?
How, just how
Can I repent?
Tell me that I must repent
Otherwise I'll snuff more lives
Out till my untimely end
Was it justified for him to die
For happiness had finally filled him
Whatever the case, this boy is dead
It was my dream that finally killed him.
