The Schism

The wind howls like a beast's fang between the rocks,
Snow whirls like ash in fire.
In the gray mist where time has stood still,
My soul languishes in captivity.
I am a schismatic of ancient times,
Cursed by fate and forgotten by men.
My blade thirsts for the blood of the enemy,
But my heart yearns for the light of the moon.
Let us remember the battles where steel clashed,
Where brothers fell under the banner of war.
We marched to our deaths but believed in victory,
In a dream of peace, free from darkness.
But lies and envy gnawed at our souls,
Destroying brotherhood, dividing lands.
Now I wander along forgotten paths,
A lonely guardian, keeper of the past.
And only the wind hears my pleas,
For forgiveness, for peace for all.
I await the day when evil is vanquished,
When brothers stand shoulder to shoulder again.