Here I lay, old worn and tarnishied
Once a glorious, strong savior...
Now here I sit, maybe forever to stay....
They are the only ones that will outlast me...
Here I look back,
Having been passed from hand to hand,
To and fro..
Then a prized posession..
Now a remnant, collecting dust...
I once belonged to a great warrior
One unsurpassed in greatness
Strong and mighty, more than any ever known
He was the best there was, maybe the best of all to come..
His name, was Beowulf, son of Edgetheow...
I was with him, for a great many seasons..
I was there to see, all that he saw...
I was there to feel, all that he felt....
He had sewn a great many deeds, to have brought him great fame.
He wanted no fortunes no kingship, nor material gains.
His life led nothing other, than that of the Warrior Code.
I am his instrument of destruction,
I am that which bludgeon's injustice
I am the defender of good, and killer of evil
I am his tool of mortality
I am his sword..
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