Hero

The years of a hero

And the hero's tears

They only show at the ending of the night,

When everyone’s eyelids fall heavy shut, so the hero

Can yearn in silence of,-

The times that were misplaced, and the important

Moments that were unraveled in some pitiful wrongdoing

The times that,

When i look back upon,-

My head plummets into my palms, and i say

As if a romantic Relationship is nearly as tormenting

No one likes it,

When the hero getting wholesomely penetrated

By the wretched sword he inflict,

In that back alley passing.

Wenches with woes, that ween over that mis-victory, that is

And then the hero itself

Doesnt like it when a past fighter, holds the grain of another Hero.

And the hero screams and exclaims!

Burn that Hero!

Because They look like one.

Meanwhile, a useless fighter;

Wanes over those other Heroes, who may not even be.

The hero doesn’t like it when a past fighter, holds the hand of another Hero