[Verse 1] This humble man, spear tight in hand, Walks calm where others make a stand. Yet don’t be fooled, he's not a joke— A single shove, his master stroke. [Chorus] He guides the spear with quiet grace, Not for the kill, but for the place. The trap, the cliff, the lightning’s edge— He draws the line, then breaks the pledge. [Verse 2] He shoves the foe into their friend, Lets cleavers swing and battles end. The trap is set, the rocks will fall— He doesn’t fight, he moves it all. [Bridge] Sonlir need not kill or maim, He moves the world, then leaves the frame. No final blow, no need to plead— He allows the moment to proceed. [Verse 3] The storm awaits, the trap is laid, He shoves them where the cost is paid. No need for blood, no need for blade— The sky itself becomes his aid. [Chorus] He guides the spear with quiet grace, Not for the kill, but for the place. The trap, the cliff, the lightning’s edge— He draws the line, then breaks the pledge.
