It’s eleven o’clock
And the end of all things
The battle now short
My wound it stings
I grit my teeth
And face my foe
Dismount my horse
Fight hand and blow
Though slay me may
I give such fight
That fear and doubt
Do flee in fright
As warriors might
I spend my strength
I grip my sword
I wield its length
Such reckless hate
My enemy wields
I show no mercy
Against his shields
The weapon he uses
Will perish like Earth
But mine will endure
With Heaven’s birth
