Fed you to the Walls

Dripping you red juice from my flickering 
sword.
Tell me not your fears at the battle of
Nord.
The brick stone walls are drinking what's been
poured.
I flew on jet black wings up there, I 
soared.
You're dead now, so dead for I knew you
roared.
When my men sounded glaoch in sweet
chord.
Pleading forgiveness to you distatnt
Lord.
Leaving behind the pale weak mothers
adored.
Adrenalin pounding, heart's running
toward.
Now I abandon the war on my ship
a board.