He stands on the shore, as the waves crash against the stones. It sounds like thunder…but the sky is clear. The moon is full, but the stars seems scared…they are not twinkling. He has been coming here every night…assessing the battle yet to come. His heartbeat is calm tonight…the cool breeze carries a message for him. As the tide rises to its peak, the water reaches his feet. The sand beneath his feet shifts, to acknowledge the being that stands upon it. He stares out into the sea…into the darkness. Far away, he can see thunder, but not hear it. The approaching storm is still far away.
Its midnight again, eight more to go until it begins
Another season has gone by...many have
And the circle is complete …again
Through the times I have changed, watched myself wax and wane
Gathering sea shells in a bag
Only to throw them back again
But this time it’s different…this time I shall not crumble
As the storm approaches, I sharpen my sword
As I prepare the body to shed blood
I prepare my mind to brace pain
Oh lord, be my guide… as I wait for the rising tide
On this full moon night…I prepare to set sail
I long to meet the stranger…the wind whispers his name
It tells me stories...of courage, bravery and fame
When we meet, the sea shall mix with blood and tears…yours and mine
But I shall not back down, for I leave my fear behind
If the sight of flowing blood scares you my friend,
Then let us meet where the water is black
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