Tis discipline and brute, lined with great pride.
That creates hunger for enemy's blood.
Which in turn, allows mind's gate to breach wide.
Sensing the prey setting his deathly mood.

He advances upon the beviled soul.
Smiling, in joy of such fearful treat.
Pouncing upon the foreigner, then let haul!
The weak man then lay and bleed in defeat.

While this beast advances with his large pack.
Upon the weak man's allies they will feed.
Destroying the minions that dare attack.
These dogs of power, might, valor and speed.

For I am a spawn of such great creature.
And I have grown to his brutal feature.