• quiet pages yet unturned
    with patience i yearn,
    one young hero i wish to meet
    many bow at his feet,
    in his hands lie men's fate
    the story, oh how I wait

    with his might
    he will fight,
    with his blade
    a story made,
    with his pride
    all shall hide

    the hero falls ill
    he becomes quite still,
    all come to mourn
    the greatest hero yet born,
    shaky as i look
    it's the end of the book