Spirits
With the bandit swords all falling in a manner so appalling,
Your old world ending on a once fine summer day.
You shed some tears of grief while at a tree you hid beneath,
As you grieved for friends and family while to gods you did pray.
...
Overcoming fear of dying you found your people lying,
In the fires of Oakvale Town upon a cool night breeze.
You wanted a life of action, but you forgot the core subtraction,
That much life would be lost, making you weak at the knees.
...
Stripped of former choices, you heard cruel bandit voices,
As they killed and pillaged, all with swords in hand.
Possessions they were stealing while they raped women appealing,
As you silently stood there amongst the lost and the damned.
...
You were a Hero, so you reckoned, adventure to you beckoned,
You wanted to see the world and unwind.
To towns would you travel, along roads both dirt and gravel,
To leave dull Oakvale far behind.
...
But now death is sounding, bandit footfalls bounding,
As you stand and weep under the stars.
To your old life you are clinging, songs of lament you're singing,
As it fades away like a cruel mirage.
...
But with the fires glowing you find your spirit growing,
As the lives of friends all fade away.
They paid a final price, you need not sacrifice,
I'll take you to the Guild, a brighter day.
...
You will learn to battle, no longer need you prattle,
Of child swords amongst the ghostly gums.
No longer need you shiver, you'll have a sword and quiver,
You'll fight the fel, no longer need you run.
...
Under storm clouds banking with metal armour clanking,
Against you mighty foes will surely fall.
As I watch you growing I gain a sense of knowing,
That you will see Albion shore to shore.
...
From the summers boiling to winter veil coiling,
You'll face the foes of even darkest night.
And with strength of Will, from valley to hill,
To Albion you will bring back the light.
...
So do not stand here waiting, for Jack's life you must be taking,
And free me from the shadow of that lout.
From people unassuming to shades of shadow blooming,
It's time for you to be out and about.
...
But do not leave your past behind you, let its dark fires remind you,
Of the tragedy in which I played a part.
And as I lie here crying, for freedom sadly pining,
Remember to always follow your heart.
A/N
Probably stretched Maze's character a bit, but I guess that's poetic licence for you. And for the record, I took the structure from the poem Spirits of the Outback by Veronica Weal. Nationalistic songs aren't my thing, but they have their uses.