Hero Game
I saw a young boy in the crowded city
When I was headed through town.
He had a sloppy mess of blondish hair
And a face that was rather round.
But what I couldn't help but notice
Was his clothing looked identical to mine.
A green Phrygian cap he had
And a green tunic of a kind.
In his hand he held a sharpened stick
That was, in his mind, a blade.
Imaginary enemies he fought
And every last one he slayed.
At last he raised his sword up high
And I thought I heard him say,
"Behold: I'm Link, the Hero of Time
Come to save the day."
And I said to him, "Oh, little child,
You know not what you say.
You may be a hero to your friends,
But what of the enemies you slay?
And what of the families they may have
And the friends that they adore?
And what of all the memories they love
And the ones that they abhor?"
At first he only gazed at me,
Eyes glistening with admiration.
Here was his hero, Link, the enigma,
Who'd endured many a tribulation.
And then he started thinking hard
For an answer to my question.
He said, "But sir, they've souls of evil!
They deserve their vivisection!"
"Nobody deserves death," I said,
"Not even the creatures most vile.
Evil is only a state of confusion,
A nasty but temporary trial."
He stopped and thought for a couple of seconds,
Considering the words I said.
"But what if they attack," he eagerly asked
"And if you don't kill them, you're dead?"
These words stung me like a spider's bite
For in all my journeys and quests,
I was several times guilty of attacking first.
Was all that bloodshed for the best?
I looked the child in the eyes,
Trying not to convey my shame.
"Run along now," I said calmly.
"And play your hero game."
So play his hero game he did,
Sacrificing his enemies for his friends
And no more did I chastise him,
Though by his hand many met their ends.
But what I found most disturbing of all,
Was something the child could never see;
What he loved most about his hero
I hated most in me.
