An abused hero
The demons and devils plague this land. They lay dormant in earth, sea and sand.
They only travel in doubles, some say only to make twice the trouble.
So we need a hero to fight with valour or not at all, he will conquer or only simply stall.
A valiant sacrifice if his life is put to an end, only a valuable coin we had now spent.
But who will be this hero, we cannot settle for some random zero.
He must thrust his sword with power, and the earth, she shall flower.
We mustn’t cower in fear; we must fight through the sorrow and tears
And as we cried for hope and steer, a hero he appeared, to cure this leer.
As he walked into our world, our hope it would slowly grow, and the earth then shimmered with a mighty glow
Our king! Our saviour! He has come so we mustn’t waver!
He shall end these demons! And free these slaves! And cure what we once called our heart’s now hollow caves.
Look at the hope and serenity this hero has now made, and yet no coin have we paid.
And now the hero lay dead on the cold hard floor, and our hope goes flying out the door.
The poor and the needy still praise this saviour, and the riches praise and tears shall forever waver.
