Only Fools pursue it, and only the wise can claim it. Only the brave find it, and only the mighty can use it. The goal of all life, may lie in strife, nor in us that favor War. If our letters be mistaken, know of this. War is what we seek. And War we will find. Through War all is obtained, from majesty to peace. The Battlefield is aloft with great Nights, both in Day and in Light; filled with assassins knives. Bombarded at every turn, with arrow, shot and true, be the mates of ships. To bleed and wreck, flail in ruin as the chains close in. To dance with arrows, and dance with flame and sever our enemies at necks sweet cusp. War. Ultimate and Unrelenting, bloody and merciless. What keeps us going, is only a Philosophers Dream. Bloodlust, and the prize that awaits us at home, should we keep our lives, and our sanity.