Hydra

 


In a time of great adventure where legends had there start.
Beasts and man and all the gods dwelled not so far apart.
Then resided a young soul who lived a woods man’s life.
But wished for more than a home, children and a wife.
He imagined heroic deeds in places few have seen.
A triumphant warrior was his vision in all his many dreams.
It came to pass he left his place to see these foreign lands.
Crossing icy mountaintops and shore lines flaked with sand.
From desert plains to deepest woods he traveled on alone.
Till ending in a forest village like the one he once called home.
Still a strange dread filled the air that barely made a sound.
Locked away the villagers stayed not a creature could be found.
A pub or something of the like he saw on a quiet street.
The kind of place a weary traveler can pause to rest his feet.
The shelter felt as an empty grave as lonely and as cold.
Peering from the counters safety was a man quite scared and old.
When asked of the elder owner what troubled there small town.
He answered in a whispered voice as he glanced all a round.
“A dragon roams the nearby marsh,” His words were filled with dread.
“The men who tried to rid this scourge have failed and now are dead.”
“ The beast has allowed you passage in for this is truly why.”
“A tasty morsel you too shall make when it chooses you to die.”
“The dragon is a hydra where it came from we don’t know.”
“Draw not your sword to cut it’s head for two others then will grow.”
“And breath not in when it exhales for this shall be your death.”
“Poison grows the very air made by the creatures vile breath.”
“Some tried to flee away there failure heard in anguished screams.”
“Appeasement soon shall all run out livestock has been the scheme.”
The man gave thought to what should be done of this fearful plight.
No chance would he give up his life without the risk to fight.
A disturbing music of clangs and pings filled the somber place.
The outside rain trickled in where the roof gave an open space.
Over mugs of ale the old man laughed while saying to his guest.
“Our homes now weep for they are all as miserable and depressed.”
An inspiration from a life the traveler once thought he did not to care.
A vision of hope revealed to him one the others never dared.
“The beast shall be defeated on this day with out a man or sword.”
“Gather up your pigs and show me where the roofers pitch is stored.”
To an open field the hogs were lead on them the beast should dine.
Then barrels filled with the roofing glue were poured on the screaming swine.
The fearsome dragon was drawn to the pigs awful wining sound.
And with each it’s heads it grabbed a pig as they ran all around.
Despite there size and mighty strength the tar sealed the monsters jaws.
With bow in hand the young warrior finished his great and noble cause.
From his quiver he lit the arrows then he took a deadly aim.
There mark each found at tar filled mouths igniting them with flame.
The heads burned away one by one the creature was no more.
Behind the gallant brave young man came a joyous loud uproar.
Gone was his need to be a traveling man and wish to always roam.
For here he was the hero dreamt and here he found a home.