Run...
He tries to say it, but his breath is gone,
Driven from him by the arrows in his side.
I can only stare in horror and dismay.
How did he come to this end,
This brave warrior who showed me how to fight?
Run...
How can I run
When he kneels there wounded,
Yet still striving to defend us
With his last ounce of strength?
I cannot leave him, he is my friend!
Run...
I should have listened!
Did I think my small sword would make a difference?
But I could not stop myself from trying
When I saw him kneeling there, head bowed in defeat.
I wanted to avenge him!
Run...
If only I could!
I would run back to him, help him, touch him one last time!
They are taking us away, I cannot get free; I cannot reach him!
He turns his head feebly for a last look at us -- at me -- as we are
carried away.
I will never forget the look on his face.
He did not run,
Though he paid with his life.
I will not run!
I will stand and fight and pledge my sword in his memory.
