This man, once a warrior of great stature
I cannot leave him behind, so I carefully lay him on the back of my horse
And then I notice the royal emblem
With this knowledge I return, to the small wooden church
So he might be given the proper burial he deservers
Then my senses pick up the stench of burning flesh
I see a yellow glare ahead
Screams that slowly fade away
A nightmare has unfolded itself
This horror can't be a coincidence
And thus it burns, the church where I sheltered for the hail, the doors seem locked
The saints, whose songs soothed me, were killed by a blazing fire