I have traveled to far away lands
I have built bridges able to
withstand the heaviest Axe
I have united brother with brother
once enemies in battle, now
sup at the oaken table of life
bringing fresh mead to their lips
in tribute to one another.
I have soothed the weak and protected
them from the evils that surround us all
I have forged the warrior within so many
and set them apon the world to do as I have
done, bringing the Old Code with them on their
breath as they now soothe others, as i did them.
I have sung to the ancients, and paid homage to
those who have fallen before me
My question soon arises thus, beneath the
shroud of darkness that cools my fires each night
What of my legacy? Shall the voices be heard
above all other words to sing of my triumphs?
Or shall they fall buried beneath the road by which
all must walk, like so many blades of grass,
being trampled until there be nothing left of it's
green sweet life?
The epiphany arose to me, caressing my mind like a false
lover's sweet embrace, cool and caring one moment, but cold
and brutal the next.
You shall not hear your triumphs, dear sweet, simple man. As
you fall, you will only feel the footsteps of those who come
after you, trampling over you with only a moment's notice
you were ever there.
Stumble!