Day after day,
day after night.
Who will stay?
Who will fight?

Unwavering saint,
unwavering spark.
Defying the taint,
defying the dark.

Rugged by the years,
shedding no tears.
Feeling no woes,
staff smiting his foes.

Shielding a realm,
the realm of men.
Standing by an elm,
the elm of a glen.

This is where the border grows,
this is where the darkness shows.
No other paths remain,
leading to a grassy plain.

Doom walks the land,
on every soil and sand.
Peril is near at hand,
he is there to stand.

Marauders, demons, beasts and more
crashing down on our holy priest hard.
Mounds of slain sinking deep into gore
before our scarred eternal guard.

His inner fire setting ablaze the dead,
healing wounds from which he has bled.
A mere mortal is who defends us all,
with our prayers he will not ever fall.

The end of times will not come,
we have faith, we are strong.
There will always be some,
who give a plea, who give a song.

Chaos shall not consume our souls,
his unbreakable will through us flows.
We stay to fight, day after night,
for it is the right, to keep the light.