WOUNDS OF HONOUR
WOUNDS OF HONOUR Rejected by his own mother, Away from his home Floating he went away To the lands, unknown. Was luckily picked by the charioteer And sheltered as his own Bullied by his own brothers Shunned by master Dron But his passion and spree Couldn't hide his fame He was trained by the lord of lords Parshuram was his name. Taught the spirits of archery Taught the language of bows More accurate than his brother he was His nerves were his arrows. He served, he cared Never feared bearing pain But every time he was insulted His compassion went in vain. But never did he step back Even in the worst times Silently he battled along Against the odds and the crimes. Luckily he got a friend A person to honor his skills But the friend he made was of the dark side Darker were his deeds. He was used by his friend To fuel his friend's profits But securing his friend's safety Was his only habit. Thus years rolled out Scenarios changed, But the warrior was still at war To make his