Heath

There are many days where I look to the sky and think of the days of my past. Of the days where I would run across fields of grass filled with the energy of a growing teenager. Of the days where I would make stupid mistakes that plagued my mind which now seem distant and small.

Those days are long gone, but I still wish and long for them. The simple things.

My name is Heath. Some of you may recognize this name among the stories of old. The legends that have been retold of a man that has slayed kings and dragons. Of a man that has a sword made of clean silver. Of a man that has his face hidden, and left to debate among the children and old men in their own imaginations.

He was a man of honor, but is now left to the ashes of history. Some say he lives, some say dead…But to me he is just a distant memory.

I don't feel sad for the loss of this man, he was riddled with scars that told of the things he lost, and of the things he killed. He was broken just like every man would be after the things he went through.

He was me.