He opened up his eyes in shock, relieved to be awake
ashamed that such a nightmare could be more than he could take
his memory was foggy, so he pushed his fears aside
whatever it was, it had the sense to run and hide
He sat up quickly, trying to determine where he lay
assuming he’d grown tired and stopped to rest along the way
but when he tried to stand his entire body screamed in pain
and blood poured out of open wounds upon the ground like rain
He curled up on the ground and whimpered, feeling near to death
barely holding on to consciousness between each breath
after what felt like a day had passed in agony
his bleeding had subsided and he got up on one knee
He groaned in pain and found his voice was gravelly and dry
then much more disturbing things began to catch his eye
his hands were grey, his fingers withered almost to the bone
and now he knelt amidst the ashes, completely alone
The dragon’s fire had burned until the war had been erased
no evidence of battles or the enemies he faced
with all his strength he started walking, though he’d quickly tire
he knew that still his duty lay somewhere in the empire
“I’ll find my family and king, and then after some rest
my magic will return again, and I’ll be at my best”
despite the pain and stiffness in his legs he walked along
whispering the words he knew to one old hero’s song
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He walked for many days toward the empire and his home
moving like the winter breeze, unsure where it would roam
finally he found the end of where the fire had spread
looking back from where he’d come, he wouldn’t count the dead
In his life he’d travelled many times on just his feet
but never had there been so few along the way to meet
survivors of the fire had started settling here and there
but even where the living were, still sorrow filled the air
No one spoke of heroes or the glory found in war
no one dreamt of conquest of the demons anymore
no one that he met in cities hadn’t lost a fiend
no one spoke of war except to wish that it would end
The hero walked until he found himself before a place
where once he spent his days in peace and in his wife’s embrace
he limped along the roads he’d walked upon once with his sons
smiling at the thought of them when they were little ones
He came up to the door and almost felt their presence there
but found no sign of his own wife or children anywhere
now the house was empty, though he found a little note
and quietly the hero read the words his wife had wrote
“Maybe you’ll survive this battle, should it be your fate
I’m sorry but the war is long, no longer can we wait
the children will be safer if I take them far away
I’ll hide our gold, and maybe we can meet again someday”
The hero was relieved his wife and children would survive
he couldn’t know just where they went, but they were still alive
maybe they’d return to find him wealthy once again
surely he’d reverse the empire’s sorry state by then
The weathered note fell out of his dry hands and hit the floor
they barely had the strength to cling to paper anymore
he stumbled to the chair where he once sat beside the fire
where his family would sing his songs and never tire
Instinctively he reached out for a small bottle near the chair
remembering the times he’d spent alone in comfort there
the bottle wouldn’t open though no matter how he tried
it shattered when he dropped it, but the hero only sighed
Many years had passed the hero by in endless war
had they stayed they might not recognize him anymore
the dusty house he left behind, where now he sat alone
brought upon a restless feeling like he’d never known
He wandered through the capital he couldn’t recognize
the people full of life he knew had nothing in their eyes
merchants and their trade were gone, the buildings were destroyed
not a trace of anything, that anyone enjoyed
The hero almost wondered why he’d bothered to return
there was no army left to lead, no forest left to burn
but deep inside he knew he still desired another quest
for only when a hero died did heroes ever rest
~