Countless lives are pulverised by his dull, bludgeoning blade.
Blood sprays his face,
As the bodies fly by him like ragdolls,
split in two,
He feels nothing for them,
Gutsknows nothing but his blade.
The feeling of love is so strange,
A gentle touch hard to comprehend,
New things called friends.
He cried for the child
that he killed.
The child was him in another time.
His life was changed.
The lovely Caska with the dark brown eyes,
And the man Griffiththey all looked up to.
She had become weak,
The man had become insane,
His body frail and nearly dead,
the day they saved him from the dungeon,
never knowing that his sanity was fading.
The weak man became stronger with the sacrificed blood of his army,
And became a beast inside Beheit.
He raped what Guts had loved the most,
As Casca cried Guts did what he never dreamed of.
The Egg of the King,
Makes men do horrible things.
But love is everlasting,
One arm and an eye for her,
And bore the brand.
His revenge will one day be realised,
And his hatred will someday finallydie,
For Guts, life is just beginning.