Draganchroi

Meg oyacyi par eyn verd? Nayc copad par kaysh kad, ra kaysh kotyc akaan'laar. Val sirbur kaysh ruugl'a, bal be'chaaj teh kaysh ca'nara Val copaanir naasad b'kaysh ijaat ra kaysh echoy par kote Meg copad par ori'verd? Par val meg motir tion'tuur hut'uune trattok'or? Val or'parguur kaysh kandosii manda, kaysh ijaat'la a'den. Val sirbur jage enteyor cuyir laandur, bal dar'vurel akaanir A'tion'ad liser cabuor val, adol te darasuum'ca? O'r'ibic'ca, verde sa hut'uune oyacyir Val kar'taylir naas b'ijaat, kote sa be'chaaj bah val. Val nari ures haat, ijaa, ra haa'it OYA par te echoy'la verd, naasad sha'kaysh eso A'kaysh partaylir kaysh na

Its 3 a.m. and still I live a wreath of smoke around my head and whiskey on my breath. the bottle lies tipped over, its contents long since drained dulling my senses yet sharpening my heart. all i have to show this night, like so many others is a drained bottle of whiskey and an empty pack of death. The whiskey doesnt save me, the smokes only kill me. why is it that i cant resist them? i spend this night like so many others in the deep embrace of whiskey my only true lover, and bathed in the heat of smoke, my one constant friend. Its 3 a.m and still i live with a wreath of smoke around my head and whiskey on my breath my h

What is left for a warrior? no call for his sword, or his mighty warcry. They call him archaic, and outside his time. They'll have none of his honour, or his search for glory what call for heroes? for those who stand when others fall? They hate his ferocity, his honourable fury. They say men should be weak, and not ever fight but who then will protect them, in the long watches of night? In this world, ferocity and fearless might are no longer desired replaced with weak and ineffectual slaves, To societies demands these slaves bow down, they know nothing of honour, glory is foreign to them. They act with only selfish regard, what