As not writ before or since, has vile enemy stained my sword
Yet sworn foe the Khan shall be the first to stretch my placid word
For he who takes others works, and stamps into the sordid dust
Shall forever rue the day and know, that I his blood shall lust.

Let him ride with they that creep like sheep in lowly servitude
For when back is tight against the wall, shall they be ever rude
They who have followed, with their bloated egos to the fore
Shall spill their worthless blood, and whimper, lying there in their gore.

Let men that if to battle go; be worthy to vows of man
Begin and end the fight on fields of pride, with their heart in hand
Before God in realms of valours pride, let Khan be proudly stood
Knowing that his evil ways are now forsaken for the good.