The Warrior
by Luke Xu

On a night of flame and hate
Lay a child marked by fate,
Upon his eyes a blinding scar
One day to spread his fame so far.

As robbers upon the house did raid
All but that one child was struck by blade.
As rain drenched that grisly night
That child swore to finish the fight.

As he grew he learned from the best
To push him far away from the rest.
A defender of justice, a righter of wrong
But his life was hard, his enemies strong.

As his years lengthened and he grew old
His hair turned silver, from shining gold
But he knew what he must do next
To finish his first, and final quest.

In the land of darkness, cold
Was a creature evil and bold.
The warrior traveled to that land
Numerously avoiding death’s own hand.

They fought and grappled for a time
And both fell into decline.
At last he won and with him took
The being that all good had forsook.

So there was a tale of a warrior great
Who rose up to challenge fate,
A being who for eternity stays
In all our souls, support for our days.