Where now the justice and the truth, and the peace that was calling.
Where is the spring and the fountain, and the stream that was flowing.
Where is the harvest and the feast, and the seed that was growing.
They have faded into shadows, and buried in sand down below.
They have swayed to later days, and to places so far away.
They are drowned in wells and torched in the flames of hell.
Who shall fight for justice and die for peace, bring together the hoard scattered and find all that is lost.
Who shall face the shadows and return the truth, bring back the spring and fountain lost.
Are there no more Heroes, are the days of Champions behind, buried in the sands of time, passed away like the season.