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16 lines
761 B
Plaintext
16 lines
761 B
Plaintext
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Hope was ripped to shreds by ruthless might, and promises of reunion disappeared like fleeting shadows.
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The wandering traveler had once against lost a place to call home.
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The condescending evil stole his love's joy,
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And the endless conflict ground down his irreverent soul.
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Those gentle, playful rhythms of revelry,
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Now turned to sharp, icy clangs.
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For his comrades, for his best friend, for the tables around which none would again share wine.
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For freedom, for life, and for revenge against the evil that had taken her smile.
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Thus resolved, the traveler plucked his last string, and fired his final arrow.
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As he grew accustomed to life in this foreign land, he gazed up at the azure sky.
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Ah, so the sky here was the same as the one back in his homeland...
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