The Immortals
Born of the light, shadowed by the darkness of time
Theseus knew, not the love of a father nor friend
Seen for the man he should be by an 'ancient' sublime
Bound by the love of a mother, whose love wouldn't bend
Raised with a mothers love in begrudging of times
Always a watchful eye and a helping hand
Scorned by her peoples, outcast, for anothers crime
Lowly in stature, exalted by Gods demands
A friend stood by, shoulder to shoulder
Prepared for to fall, by his side
Unflinching, steadfast, as a boulder
A voice, in the Holy Land
The 'Oracles' eyes are opened by that which she saw
'He' wielding the 'bow of the Gods' by his side Ezekiel
A body encased in a shroud, left her trembling, in awe
His race it is run with the Hellacious hounds at his heels
Bathed in the gaze of her beauty
Wrapped in the veil of her smile
Torn in the Hell of his duty
Daring to walk, the long mile
Trained in the art of war by the God of Gods
Heart beating rapid, but strong through endless odds
Faster and slicker than most, in a lethal dance
Raised for this War of Wars, to quell evils advance
Laid at his feet, like the kill of a rabid dog
Battered and broken, yet, vengeance is all he demands
Blinded by sweat and by pain in the clearing fog
He strikes at the giants weakness... with dying hands
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