Sleep speaks that single red black eye
as it gazes upon the millions who die
for this eye it once was a man
clad in armor of a forgotten land
and there with him carried a sword
who's name was forgotten to be spoken no more
and howls can be heard deep with in its den
as it cries out for a bloody end
yet it knows in truth it must remain
for that long so hoped amazing day
when a boy no taller then a fly
will come to speak his sacrifice
and the eye the creature truly not known
would finally awaken in its unknown hallow
it would sprout arms, legs, and body from its spherical mass
till there be for the boy sat a man of oldness
and this man he would speak as if from a distance
to the young king who's mind was suspicious
he would tell of this boys great escapades
if only the child would kill the demon in-caged
and without warning the man would change
back to the red black eye of dark rage
and the boy he would find a sword
who's name was forgotten to be spoken no more
and with it he would slay that beast of old
and become a king, a king of great joy, and forgotten sorrow...
