Those Brave Hearts

...

When the air is crisp and the moon is bright

she calls you in the dead of night,

Shining hair and tombstones white

both tainted by her blood.

,

With a piercing cry and yellow eyes agleam

you are awakened from your dream

and, though she's far too far to hear her scream,

you're soon bounding down the stairway.

,

Out the door before you're dressed-

forgotten coat and tweeded vest

While shaking fingers try their best

with the buttons on your scabbard.

,

Many a soul could see you there,

your broadsword charging through the air

But you storm the streets without a care

for those who's lives are quiet.

,

Breathing a prayer as you round the bend

your wits and journey at their end

The graveyard looks a hallowed friend

'till you see her lying there.

,

Your weapon falls down at her side

her big brown eyes are open wide

and all you can think is: She can't have died

while you were sleeping in your bed.

,

Lips to lips and lungs implore,

you've brought her back this way before

But there's blood on her mouth and you know wherefore

What villain could have done this?

,

On an evening not so strange as most

a creature of the night gives a drunken toast

having left her body here to boast:

The world's without its Slayer.

,

Gathering her up, she feels so small.

You pleaded to gods and powers all

that you would not live to see the fall

of this world's greatest hero.

,

But her time is now and the days are done

of endless battles fought and won

and you scream against the rising sun

at the nature of your calling.

,

You've one last task yet to fulfill

to ensure that she is resting still.

Before daybreak comes to break your will

close her eyes and kiss her softly.

,

And with the brick in your chest and a trembling hand

you use your sword to help you stand

Then raise it high with a cry to the land

and down upon her swiftly.

,

Years will pass and time will tell

of the fated pair who fought back hell

and of those brave hearts wherein the sadness dwells

of a watcher and his charge.

,

But this night is not yet won by fiends

and, while you're sure that it's your fate you've seen,

you awake to find it all a dream

her sleeping form beside you.

...


Watcha think? -Ledgerwood