See them walk the Battlefield, full of false Pride and Arrogance,
in shining glittering Armor, for all to see and to admire.
They want you to believe they are the Greatest and most Powerful,
true Leaders and worthy of Admiration.
See those shiny Knights, drunken and in Revelry, primitive and loud,
bathing in their puny Excess, celebrating their hollow Victories.
Unworthy to wield the Blade, a Mockery of all that is Knighthood.
They roam the Nights, looking for Pleasure and Ignorance.
I stand far away, clothed in Shadow and Darkness, my Armor has
never been white, but dirty, scarred and dented, my Blade never costly
or expensive, and I possess no golden Clothes. All that remains is
a fine Heart of Humility, Passion and Righteousness beating in Rage.
Insubstantial we become, our spectral Blades unable to hurt our
Enemies, we fade into Nothingness, our Warnings unheard.
Weak we are now, against Evil and its trickery Illusions,
all Minds turn to the Shining Lords of Reality, listening and obeying.
Maybe we might gather again, the grey Walkers, the Knights of the Void,
one last Battle against our Foes, to remind them once more,
that not all Good is dead, not all Hope lost, not all Light forgotten.
Spread the Word, the Bastion of the Righteous still exists.