My first attempt at poetry;

Young and bold,
A true man with heart of gold,
Never to turn back to times that are old,
Never forgetting promises he had once hold.

Glory, glory, the people cried,
Battles, wars, not one did he not fight,
Taking revenge on those who cheated and lied,
Those who set his homeland alight.

Blood spilled from his sword,
As he slaughtered his way through the horde,
And to the soldiers he fought and their king that he caught,
He cried, “Go to Hell in the name of thy Lord!”

And so he returned to his rising homeland,
Relief to see the familiarity of his great clan,
And as he held his blade in his blood soaked hand,
The crowd welcomed the return of the bold, young man.