The wraith of the blades give the glistening glow,
the power that holds in the Firehawk's soul.
For in times of despair, the blade shall be raised
carved, sharpened, cleaned, and blazed.
in battle the blade shows blood
The ancient firehawks, their power shall flood
in the clash of the blades
the people they raze,
In the end the odds are reveiled
the blood shall fall, the evil will fail
the power of the good shall previal.
the flag of victory all will flail! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem