A narrative poem about a teacher, a farmer and an evil emperor. What happens here allows men to rule themselves and treat each other with love instead of fear...
I'm going to paint a picture,
A fantasy fiction mixture.
I've felt the reignition,
And now I'm on a mission.
I will succeed for my own good,
But I'll tell you in time,
how I stood.
For today I have a story,
One of pride and glory.
A man's sheer will to succeed,
And to fight another's greed.
It all started with a sword,
Not the brightest or the bold.
A man just could not afford,
To let another hold.
It glimmered in the sun,
And glittered with the stars.
It made all their foes run,
But they didn't get very far.
The sword was god himself,
An unstoppable force of nature.
It left volcanoes on the shelf,
And did not bow to fate's stirs.
The man was the lord of all the earth,
The very expression of universal.
And his name was emperor Firth,
His will had no reversal.
He dominated all he saw,
And left none that stood with hearts grim.
But one could not obey his law,
One man chose to rise against him.
He was a traveller,
Walking the path he set ahead.
And he was completely sure,
That without freedom one is dead.
He chose his life of solitude,
Moving across all distant lands.
And if any gave him attitude,
He would choose to die or stand.
This man was Zen The Teacher,
And he was a very peaceful person.
One would not call him a preacher,
But instead, the first one.
For he was the first man upon the earth,
That ever met their god.
Not even great lord Firth,
Knew his sword was more than odd.
But Zen knew the truth itself,
That the sword refused to show.
And knew that he could help,
If that's what was willed as so.
There is a third man in this tale,
The most important, some would say.
But he was just a man so pale,
