That "hero" did get me

Those Danes, those awfully joyous Danes. Their joyous songs haunt as I wait here to die. That Beowulf character knew what he was doing. I crashed into Herot, as usual, and saw him and his men laying quietly asleep. I crash and thrash until that challenger finally awakens. He knew exactly how to defeat me. He beat me down with his bare hands, knowing that weapons are of no use on me. he beat me and tore of my arm, that little devil. He tore my arm and threw it over the rafters to show how he defeated me. Now, here i sit awaiting my final hour to come and put me out of my misery. Maybe someday, somewhere this man will get what he deserves from the monsters who have befriended me in my life time. May my legacy go on.