Phantom shadows crawl,
Phantom voices call,
singing in the still of night,
ringing aloud their desperate plight,
of a night drenched in dread,
of the dark tainted in red.
A wicked beast roared flame,
oh the lives it would claim,
all hope had bowed to hate,
their faith crushed under its weight.
But from ash a hero was born,
and from their ashes he had sworn,
to slay all beasts who stood in his way,
and to silence all those who would betray.
Demons and monsters he had slain,
and demons and monsters were all that remained.
Isolated by courage the hero stood alone,
a deep exhaustion settled In his bones.
For days and night he walked,
all of his emotions locked
away till morning when he found the sea,
he knew now things could not be.
In the end all he felt was grief,
no longer could the hero keep
his mask of bravery adorned on his head,
with a cry he lay undone and dead.
With his final breath he said,
“Oh my friends, my friends forgive me,
For I can go on no more.
Oh my friends _
My friends I shall soon join you,
As I slip to eternal sleep upon this shore.”