A man was living in the woods,
Far from the crowds, far from his kin,
Far from a world of vicious sin,
Where, ruled by fear and contempt,
His fellow men made no attempt
To free themselves from shallow moods.

The man was once a mighty prince,
Living in castles of red gold
Far from the lands of waste and cold
Where, in the dark, dwelled the breeder
Of dire monsters; the concealer
Of evil thoughts and vicious sins.

The prince was praised by all his men
And ever sought to do his best
To fight those few who would contest
His right to rule as he thought well;
Always defeated, they just fell
Before his wrath, much eased by then.

Wandering on his marbled streets
The prince once saw the strangest thing:
A bow, a dragon and a wing
Floating above a child's head
Crowned with bright silver and dark red,
Treading, eyes closed, among steep pits.

Then it all faded; an illusion
Which made its way to his hot heart,
Tearing his simple world apart;
A dream of sorrow and defeat,
A final, ultimate deceit
To bring him down with much confusion.

The prince, much troubled by this sign,
Called all the riddlers to his court,
But no one could tell him what sort
Of mystery was this; until
Out of the desert came a thrill
Of wind, bringing to him a whine:

"Young prince, you are the riddle's key:
You are the crowned child; on your head
You see the blood you'll have to shed,
The weapons you will have to use;
By many, though, you'll be accused
Of blood thirst and of killing spree.

Pay them no heed and just go on:
A mighty doom awaits before;
Just slay the beast and be adored
By those it holds enthralled in pain.
Do it and that's for you to gain;
If not, your doom’s oblivion!"

The prince then listened to the voice:
The war began, and people died,
And everyone was loath to fight
A battle which they deemed as crazed.
The prince, who once had been so praised,
Was now abhorred for his strange/cruel choice.

Yet he went on; and blood fell from the skies
And bloody rivers marred a blooded land;
He fought his way through endless seas of sand
Until he reached the empty wastes of snow
Where he would strike the final, deadly blow
To the great dragon, in his lair of ice.

Long did they fight, until at last
He seized the time and slew the beast
And then the sins were all released
And fled into the world at will
Where they still are and they'll be 'till
Our future will become our past.

As for the prince... at his return,
Greatly amazed was he to find
Diseases torturing his kind
And evil brooding in his halls
Until no one answered his calls
To fight the evil in their turn.

He left, dismayed, not looking back;
He fled into the woods, alone,
And there his heart, once hard as stone,
Melted away beneath the light
Of silver stars and red twilight
Which crowned the head he never lacked.

And then he looked up to the sky:
There was an archer - winged, it seemed;
A dragon too, or so he deemed,
Floating above in the high airs;
Seeing all this, he simply stares,
Eyes closed, into the abyss of a lie...