Ruachiah

Idyll's End is the second beginning of the Book of Dabar containing the same music as Way of Life, but heavier instrumentation chords. Devising the same rhythmatic patterns of cross poetry, spoken word, and battlefield rap.

Way of The Warrior originates from the samurai moral values, most commonly stressing some combination of sincerity, frugality, loyalty, martial arts mastery, and honor until death.

Safe Passage, I am sad, but that is my lot. Sad for me not for you. For you I feel happiness, your pain is now gone. With pride into the next life travel free of concern. We'll meet in the future our friendship transcends.

Ronin once I lived Bushido at heart. Served my King, wielding carbon and steel in fidelity. Cast aside, I have, no master now. I will not taste my blade. Outcast. I wander the rising sun to know the way anew and to learn I again for the first time.

Red Warrior's eyes grab me with such strength, I can barely hold my ground. Yet in those burning depths I never feel coldness or stillness like before, like a tiger in the wilds of earth. I can't ignore his confident strides as he burns his wings.

Way of the Sword, the pen, the mighty sword, the ink, the blood runs black, the pen that which changes the world. The bible, the Torah, the pen, the mighty sword, the pen, that which brings together.

Small Measure of Peace, gave a slight nod to everyone in recognition of their existence and mine. But amid all of them a certain sculpture it was that shone me the most, as I saw the most beautiful face ever created.

Darkwood, at the heart of the woods, tinted by shadows of wonder, the perfect place to pray, play and ponder, made nature sounder one of them a rogue, a warrior, a lover, admiration and envy saw himself as the only one worthy.

Missing identity of the servants has hidden themselves in the underground among the rulers of men, to discuss the power through wordplay, poetry, and creative writing, we see the power beginning to surface.

Return of The Samurai, fire your bullets our hearts are already ablaze in this land, grief wells up from my distress fire your bullets, for I won't play at murder or run away, my blood fertilizes & refreshes this land to plant a promising generation.

Departure is always a memorial for the Saints who carry swords, down the long distance of your words. It creates me over and over, it energizes me to find the the truth of you the Sovereign Creator.