Her grace is a work of art that cannot be described even by the most beautiful word, the poise she makes everytime she swings her sword.
The wolves howl, the monsters growl, still she quietly danced as she fought elegantly slow.
Her sighs and stares, her smiles and glares... Softly she moves... Softly she speaks...
Like the wind as it softly dance, like her touch as he fades away by her every glance.
He softly, softly fell.
This is a tale that only I could tell.