I am a warrior brother.
A holy
warrior.
I spit venom.
I breathe fire.
I am a destroyer,
a mercenary
for hire,
by God,
my highest bidder,
my one and only bidder.
For you see,
it's a question of honor
to me brother,
a matter of honor.
For it, I'd wade
through
the mire
of infidel blood,
and will
not tire, brother.
I cannot
tire.
I cannot
tire.
The smells of paradise
fill up both my nostrils.