Dye my hair and call me Archer,
Half these ideals are bloody torture.
Break my blades and I'll reforge eight.
Cause in this world of endless blades,
All will meet the very same fate.
Step back and take a look,
At the broken ideals, I had broke for.
But he took it farther,
Becoming once again,
The ideal guardian of blades.
Charge backwards at the foolish boy,
Break the newborn steel
End the deadly Heaven's Feel.
Cut through his renewed vigor,
End the blade, through heartfelt rigor.
Yet the blade reformed again,
Through stolen steel, again and again
Now he stands prouder, taller,
Mocking me for how far I've fallen.
He knows of my pain and suffering,
As he walks farther with my life in mind.
The last one did not last too long.
Dropping the dream that made him steel.
Calling out for the girl to yield.
Her core, twisted in madness,
Her 'Senpai', injured as I fade.
I cut my arm, had it grafted onto the boy.
Leaving him to fight for his new belief.
At the end of one battle he died protecting.
At the other he lived with prolonged pain.
They watched the cherry blossoms, together.
Not in a pair, rather a beloved trio.
The dead one left an empty promise.
At the end of these wars I have come to realize.
I have yet to see anything with my own two eyes.
I want to end my endless cleaning.
I want to be a savior of stainless steel.
Not rusted, bent, or broken.
Impossible for someone like me.
For I am the origin of EMIYA.