The strong have become frail.
Their hero must not fail.
Their king has no sight.
Thinking they will die without a fight.
Their hero will fight with all her might.
To bring back the light.
She must not cry.
Or else she will surely die.
She lived to harvest rye.
Where she could see the sky.
She is a farmer's daughter.
She has never seen manslaughter.
But now she draws her sword.
To defeat the evil lord.
Now it's war.
They must even out the score.
Dead the people lie.
Still she doesn't cry.
It is the world's final hour.
She must fight with all her power.
The king is evil to the core.
To defeat him you'll need the power of four.
This poem is going to be the beginning of a story I am writting.
Their hero must not fail.
Their king has no sight.
Thinking they will die without a fight.
Their hero will fight with all her might.
To bring back the light.
She must not cry.
Or else she will surely die.
She lived to harvest rye.
Where she could see the sky.
She is a farmer's daughter.
She has never seen manslaughter.
But now she draws her sword.
To defeat the evil lord.
Now it's war.
They must even out the score.
Dead the people lie.
Still she doesn't cry.
It is the world's final hour.
She must fight with all her power.
The king is evil to the core.
To defeat him you'll need the power of four.
This poem is going to be the beginning of a story I am writting.