the fallen ring the bell of death to warn that more will follow. souls of warriors rise from the battlefield like mist on the break of morning. each soul tells a mornfull tale, of a life lost for reasons known only to distant leaders too far to hear the cries of the dying. it does not matter, as the struggle of the warrior is with himself, the enemy a darkness that creeps into the soul with fear and hate.

with the enemy dead the warrior can rest but the warrior spirit continues to burn waiting for the kindling of another war. at rest the warrior fights battles of the mind, the spirit never restfull, never stopping to the look for the enemy in which ever form it takes. The warror himself, his greatest adversary, is in an endless struggle between man and spirit. the man offers weakness and fear the spirit offers strength and certainty.

so now i ring the bell for my time is over, the darkness has found me for my luck has been spent. my body has gone but my spirit rises, i leave behind the battle and the fury to embrace the peace and stillness of the true end of wars. I am joined by the warrior spirit, at last our struggle is over and our peace secure, now a trusted friend and a strength unmatched. we leave this world forever a warrior and a man. my love for my family will always be there, but for the warrior spirit no love can compare.