Hero

A blood stained path,
A lonely road,
Mountains of corpses gaze onward
At the figure walking, unceasingly forward.

He remembers his past:
The innocence lost,
The idealistic dream corrupted,
The task he began lifetimes ago.

They call him a blight,
A monster,
A demon.

Children wake in the dead of night
His visage on their minds.
Grown men weep at his presence.
Once selfish tyrants feared him,
Now they are but dust in the wind.

As his darkness grows,
As his evil increases,
The world becomes that much brighter.

The Demon Emperor just smiles,
A task succeeding,
A life worth living,
He yearns for the day,
Humanity no longer needs him.