He Was the Hero

He floats on the river of the dead,
With corpses and skeletons alongside,
Paddling a boat that sails on its own,
Marching toward the great Unknown,
He's the Hero.

With a sheath on his waist,
And a sword ready to be drawn,
He walks inside the mouth of a dark and moistly cave,
Into sure doom, into sure death,
Our Hero fears nothing but failure.

A clash of metal and a fight begins,
The world and his life all hang by the string,
They dance for the fate of the planet,
One strike and one roar,
The Hero is overwhelming the monster.

A cry of pain and a manic red glare,
The beast decides to take him with it to hell,
As it dies it dives for one last attack,
Sharp teeth rip into the boy's flesh,
A Hero was lost to death.

He floats on the river of the dead,
With corpses and skeletons like him,
Watching someone else paddle a boat that sails on its own,
Being carried by the stream into more Unknown,
He was the Hero.

(c) Mrs. Lonely.