The mountain stream flows,
softly gurgling as the
pink morning sky glows.
A young shepherdess
plays a soft melody on
an old wooden flute.
Bleary-eyed peasants
rise to start another day
as the rooster crows.
King’s men swiftly ride
on coal-black stallions through
the tiny village.
People stop and stare
as brown dust swirls all around.
Silver chain mail gleams.
Sharp swords shimmer and
shine in the bright morning sun,
like blades made of light.
The soldiers ride to
their final destination.
Dust slowly settles.
I believe there's a hero in all of us that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the thing we want the most. Even our dreams. -- Aunt May, Spider-Man 2
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