I think, sometimes, about you
and the way the world truly hates you.
How you've scarred this land irreperably,
stolen what relationships I had, and yet,
I don't hate you.
In the darkness of night, you rode across our fields,
carving them as you saw fit,
you yearned for the power to truly control this place.
You were denied, countless times,
so many times that, no matter how far back we go,
no one remembers just how many times you've come back.
Do you remember?
If I'm honest, I don't remember why I chose to become a warrior,
why I chose to be a hero.
Don't get me wrong, I love this land. I would be devastated to see it destroyed,
but, if I could, I would give this responsibility to someone else.
I'm tired of the constant, unending fighting.
In a way, doesn't that make us similar?
I don't think either of us chose this battle.
Maybe we did once, long ago, in another time, under another name,
but as it stands, I certainly didn't choose this fate.
I don't think either of us wanted this destiny.
You are my enemy, the legends told me so,
and there is no way to resolve this without conflict.
So, I suppose I'll fight you.
Eventually.