One day a man from the highlands,
Came down to the village to find,
As he fought and killed for his land,
Gone missing was the sword of his Pride.

From village to village he travelled
Slaying all that stood in his way.
Never once heeding their cries,
As their blood flowed over the plains.

Throughout all the land he searched,
Till his feet were stained in blood.
Then back to his home he trekked,
Through all that he had wrecked.


For one last sleep did he lay,
In a bed fashioned from clay.
But the last sight seen from his eye
Was his sword thrust in his side.