-As a child, god reserved you a special duty to be done

And as you grew up, you accepted that job, with honor

You trained and became stronger than any warrior can become, and for no duty of yours be undone

And then you were armored, with the protection that anyone should have, but only a few can wear, and so, you started your journey, alone

-A helmet was with you, forged with the most resistant iron and metals that can be found in the world

For it when enemies assailed you on the head: Clang! A metallic resonance that announced the enemy, that his attack, was as ineffective as a flamethrower trying to stop a fire

Inside it smelled to your sweat, at the blood that leaked through your armor, at the fear, of you and your enemies, but most of all, to the bravery that you had when you conquered the city or killed your enemy with a fast move, that ended up, with a life, being taken by your sword

-Your armor, with a red cross stained in it, reflected the bravery you fought your battles, and the fear you had, whenever you joined a fight because it could be the last one

The white on the armor, reflected how much you were dedicated to your duty, the more its white color prevailed, the less you were dedicated, the more it turned gray, the more you were

This armor was made for your protection, for it no sword can penetrate your defense, and for the enemies run for their lives, because it was made, to be something to fear, even with the smartest battle plan

This armor, and with your sword, it was a perfect dance couple, and with the armor master, you made a beautiful dance of blood, screams, and victory, repeating endlessly and suddenly, all ended, the dance was over, and your enemies, dead, and at that moment, you realize, you are not the boy you were when you started this journey, you are a man, which was needed to be treated with respect when to him you refer

-But all things come to an end, and soon, the master of the armor, dies, and is taken to the kingdom of god

And then, the armor rotates, to another one, who has been selected, and then the cycle repeats itself, endless, until the armor is too damaged for use, or until it burns into ashes

Don’t let the world forget what your masters have done, the glories they have reached, their failures, and their deaths, and don´t let them forget you, their loyal backboard

Don’t let their memories be forgotten, because it may inspire people, to accept what they are, and achieve what they want, just like your masters, who with you, the armor, their memories flashes

Don’t let the world, forget the glories of the past, and do what you can, to make the world remember, god´s warriors