The Hero

A hero. Not the typical one who saves us all from evil.

The horns are calling, the avalanch is falling
from snowy hills to farmers mills
A man will come to save the land
an army strong a legions hand
He's got the gift of telling stories
from yesterday til' ancient glories
and on his side a trusted mount
their days toghether they cannot count
He forged his sword in blizzard rain
trained hard to get the skills he gained
His father was a simple fool
Hammering with glowing tolls
A blacksmith without pride and fame
No land or riches he could claim
Our hero left to find the truth
He could'nt bare to waste his youth
The marks he leaves, they'll find his trace
They'll never ever forget his face
From tournamnets til' massacurs
His name is called to bless and curse
His enemies they died and died
Their widows cried and cried and creid
Unfortunately there will come a day
His legacy will fade away
No family, no loving wife
No sons to carry on his life
But heroes comes and heroes dies
The next one he will soon arise