The Fallen Hero

How have you fallen from grace? Oh, dear hero, You have fallen on the battlefield, And your weapons left to rust With no master to wield them. You polished and refined them; With them, you carved a path, A path for your descendants. Who would have thought— A peerless warrior like yourself, Sent away by your nemesis. The backbone of the nation, Now you lie on your back for eternity. The worms feed on your flesh. You kept your promise to the end. May your soul live on, Live in the hearts of your admirers, For you have fought well, soldier.