This poem is written to my father whom I was forced to slay. May his
soul finally find peace in the halls of the dead.

If desert winds could undo your pain, would we have seen eye to eye?
If you could cry, would we have felt alike?
Looking back, I still only know hurt.
Was Justice so bad, you'd kill your son for it?
Time goes on, and wheels roll onward.
Seasons come, and sand continues blowing in the wind.
It will always sting, that stagnant sand.
Could you have changed though?
Perhaps I should've come back to your path.
Wield the Blood Magicks of the past.
Tis too late now.
Your Magick forced my sword in your chest.
And your death left your child without a parent.

May your soul rest with peace Father.

Sir Ryuken, Son of Justice

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Solis, in the year 410 AD.