The weight of a century lies heavy on me,
heavier than the armor on your back;
for long and lonely is the life of a monster
hard and unforgiving has been my path.
Have you come to kill me, hero,
have you come to rid the world of my evil self
have you come to rescue the fair maiden
or have you come for my fabled wealth?
Your sword gleams, even in this dark cave,
yet unmarked by the blood of your enemy,
your eyes are hard, your glance ungiving,
but what, in mine, is that you see.
Do not deceive yourself, slayer,
this world needs me more than it needs you
for there is no shortage of fools who strive to be heroes,
it is the monsters that are far and few.
And sometimes princesses must be sacrificed
while occasional villages burn to the ground quite happily;
and you think yourself great, hero,
but ask yourself where would you be without me?
Perhaps you won this battle; your victory came
when your sword pierced my heart, deep,
and you may think yourself great, hero,
but where would you be without me.