Lying still before the sun rose magnificent,
A branch cracked from above and blew down gaily
Missing the child sleeping on the grove
In a dream of war where he must be the hero or else
All would perish.
In a dream where glory existed, where honor existed,
His midnight long locks across his baby face danced,
While he dreamed he was a boy no more.
Sword taking lives, spilling blood but to save,
To save his people, this was his responsibility.
Without him,
All would perish.
Aqua eyes flashed open sinking to reality as he untwisted dreams.
Loneliness returned and he could only dream it away,
In that land, where without him
All would perish.

I was captivated by these poetic images that gave readers such an exquisitely real connection to this boy.
— D. S.