The hero stood,
The hero shook,
The hero knew he might be cooked.

A warrior of light, they named him so,
He shone with a brilliant glow,
But under the dark and fading moon,
His story ended far too soon.

A hero’s swan song,
A final warrior’s cry,
A Dragonsong,
echoing in the night.
The final echo of his
Final Fantasy.

Berlin, Germany
Barurin, Nippon

Oh do not look upon me so, a boner better suits a degenerate