Hero's Ballad

O the morning sun did rise
upon another day.
A pair of soilders marching forth
unknowing of the destiny.
Intending a victory,
though the chances silm,
and the stakes set high.
Still they march forth,
without a thought to their self.
As they disapear over the hill
that fated sunday morn,
no one doubted in their strenghth
and expected them monday morn.

Many things have been said,
about what occured
beyond the grassy knoll.
Some say a battle
of epic proportions to tell.
Others speak of of fair maidens,
and massive dragons
that sat upon their golds.
Some say it was thousands
of slaver bandits
that had been stealing
childrens through the night.
Yet their bodies came,
down from beyond the knoll.
Floating through the stream,
with the slain's mark
upon their armoured forms.

Within the river they were found
the efforts and victory known to all.
As they lifted there bodies up
and granted them the hero's funeral,
orginally denied.
Suposed outcasts in this life
who's worth wasn't known until
they spent their lives for those
who had turned upon them in life.
A lone sprig of apple blossum
planted upon each grave,
left admist so many roses.
The roses' thorn turned to seed,
becoming a source of life.
So went a their deaths,
so they joined in
the ancient hero's song.