Book Dragon: "Eh, what can I say? I had a poetic moment…"(winces)
Book Dragon: "This will also be pretty easy to figure out…(cough cough TombRobber cough cough)
Sandman
Walk, Sandman.
Keep your strained strides,
Your balance on the dessert tides,
Keep sure feet among the dunes.
Far and long you have traveled, Sandman.
I can see it in your wavering steps,
Tired, almost weary,
But a growling hunger drives you,
Brings light in your eyes,
Revenge.
It's a simple word.
And yet, for you, it has been your life's meaning.
Perceived as the Robber,
Not so.
Beneath your cryptic face,
There lies an avenger.
The smoldering ruins,
The decaying flesh blanketed by sand,
The foul odor still lingers in your nose.
Fuels your raging mind.
And all because of the Pharaoh,
The great Pharaoh,
The one that locked the magic away,
Responsible for the items,
Wrought of flesh and gold,
Seven, there were mold,
Powers of great were made.
And that rightfully belongs to you, Sandman?
Steadily, over centuries,
Your strides have gone incessantly,
Seeking the kin you had long lost,
The ancient rage alive,
The wounds of old still not healed,
Only veiled beneath your face.
Child of old,
Spirit of new,
You are but the sand flowing in the wind,
Not a thief, but a man
strictly wandering the sand,
Walking along the desert tides,
A scared Re-Avenger.
Book Dragon: "Uh…please review?"