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

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

~