The Hills OF Cypress
by Esther Star
There once was a battle,
On the green hills of Cypress,
It started on the eve of spring,
it was the final battle,
the final war cry,
the end of all eternity.
The Dragon spewed fire,
setting trees aglow in flame,
witches cackling as they oversee the battle.
Good versus Evil,
gargoyles would attack,
their faces set in a permenant glare.
The Army was losing,
try they did.
They ended up losing more than their souls
until the Hero came.
On that eve of spring,
The hero could smell the war,
from miles and miles away.
He grabbed his sword,
the measly old thing,
this Hero was thought of as nothing.
He was mocked and scorned at,
though no one knew his name,
they judged him before they knew him.
Then on this one fateful day,
he knew it was time.
He rode on his steed,
in the clear blue skies.
They flew over the battle once and twice,
He saw the flames, the trouble the horror.
He rode his steed right into a cave.
He bowed on one knee,
and sent in a good word.
In his heart he knew he was ready,
Off he went, into the battle,
the battle of Good versus Evil.
A mighty dragon spotted him,
and laughed at his tall thin frame,
“This fellow won’t last!” He laughed,
“It’s time to play a game.”
The Dragon flew towards him,
and landed two feet from him,
and roared a tremendous roar.
Our hero thought nothing of it,
and was in fact amused by it.
He gave a hearty ol’ laugh,
this angered the dragon even more.
“Young boy, I am Arville.” He roared.
“The most feared dragon of all,
If you think you’re all that,
then try to slay me you little bat!
Try and fail like all the others.”
Our young Hero laughed,
and threw his old sword in the air,
and in a flash,
the sword never came back.
And would you look at that!
The Dragon was looking for the sword,
wondering what kind of magic the boy used.
Looking for the sword,
that hideous sword,
Where did the boy put it?
And our Hero bowed,
and with one hand on his knee,
he jumped into the air,
and magically caught it
and in mid air threw it,
right in the poor dragon’s heart.
And Arville tumbled down,
he lost his invisible crown,
and fell into an everlasting nothingness.
Our dear Hero saved us all,
from the wrath of Arville,
and to this day,
we hear not of our Hero,
No one has seen him since.
And our dear Hero,
saved us all,
on that eve.
That eve of spring.
COPYRIGHT 2012 Esther Star.
