Legion Lost

I am just another of the Legion Lost, my future sealed in the stones of the Fates, cast in their indifference to my pleasure. I smile at the thought of such haphazardness in which I feel my life has taken, knowing that the choices have all been mine. Knowing that if I did not tire of the things that are, and stopped the wanting of the strange and new. Then the world would be exactly as I design. Yet I do not fit in, and I cannot stay still. The ocean calls, the mountains beckon, and the skies scream their welcome. I must go, I must continue on. With a more and more frantic pace I reach forward as youth leaves me behind. Oh, how life has been a good joke on me. Oh; I am, one of the Legion Lost.

I am just another of the Legion Lost, my course is set and the fates have cast their stones. The glory of battle will be the last of my dreams as i dream no more. At war with more than my nations enemies i have killed in the name of countries and faiths. I have been the profits own sword from which he has wielded me forth in a fiery vengeance; not seen since the days of David. Well let it be known that the uncrowned king is still at large. His ego and dominance still in shrined in the ideals of Charlemagne and Caesar. Come hear my tales of camp, and i will fill your cup with blood and rage. The great tribes of the past chant out their eerie beats accompanied by their ghostly wails. Only the dead have seen the end of war and strife and only the living desire to see it.