Our Hero grasps for nothing and some,
To gain respect from himself and none.
Traveling through lands of danger,
Dispelling lies and misplaced anger.
Fighting the demons left inside men,
In cities of lost hopes he defends.
He becomes a Legend in his own time,
A Myth that fought against the filth and grime.
With every battle and war he won,
With every minute and setting sun.
Though weary and tired he fights,
To desparately make the wrong, right.
An endless quest to give hope,
So the weak and innocent could cope.
He ages as the years pass,
Until old age arrives at last.
He ends his quest left undone,
He quietly leaves the realm of men.
As he travels from earth into the light,
He sees past battles and bloddy fights.
When he stands, judgement at hand,
A choir of Angels flutter and land.
He feels something deep inside,
A feeling of hope as he gently cried.
A voice calls out from distant sky,
“You lived your life with a treasured lie.”
He raised his head to the voice and smiled,
“I hoped men would see,” he sighed.
The gates stayed closed to the Myth,
The voice spoke, “you have yet to live.”
The man fell back and through the clouds,
In the tomb he peeled back the shroud.
To live with men and continue his plight,
Of endless battles and righteous fights.
But now he is what he was at the end,
A shadow, an Angel, a Defender and Legend.
A story poem.