A Thousand Years

A thousand years or more ago,

The Warriors ruled a world anew,

There are ten of them and yet so strong,

Like the hearth ablaze with the morning dew.

Proud Ancient Greymon, he was after all,

A leader from Muspelheim,

With power of Flame that ablaze with courage,

Shall roast you to Niflhiem.

Bold Ancient Garurumon, the bravest was

The one who cherished friendships,

With his Blades of Lights, with all his might,

Shall fight for Valhalla and against the evil Darkness.

Fair Ancient Mermaimon, from shining Atlantis,

Ruled by Water with a golden trident,

Who swims with her kinsmen and fluttering tail,

Shall dive for greater achievement.

Dark Ancient Sphinxmon, he was of course,

Bold Garurumon's brother,

Who ruled Erebus with Darkness,

Shall blast those away who dares to bother.

Syhining Ancient Wisemon, who always fret,

Over Ancient Mermaimon's power of Water,

With shild of Metal, thus he rules,

Golden El Dorado with his luster.

Lovely Ancient Irismon, from floating Aolia,

Always fly with the Wind in a flutter,

Her rainbow-haired and wing-tipped sword,

Shall pierce through you like butter.

Mighty Ancient Beetmon, of great Olympus,

Always disclaims over his power of Thunder,

Thus he rule shall wane, in greater shame,

If he doesn't control his temper.

Restless Megatheriumon, of freezing Jotunheim,

Ruled by the power of Ice,

With horns so strong, to the throng,

Shall he knock you away like mice.

Hot-tempered Ancient Volcamon, from green-valley Midgard,

Always fidget here and there,

With mighty mind of the Earth,

Shall he blast you like a hare.

Clumsy Ancient Trojamon, of wooden Yggdrasil,

The proud steed of Wood,

Have defeated mighty Troy,

With all that he could.

They rule their kingdoms with loyal subjects,

With ideas of a great big plan,

Using their powers of each element,

Thus the great legend began.

While still alive they did divide,

Their subjects among the throng,

By the time they choose the worthy ones,

They'll be dead and gone.

Greater evil one are about to rise,

They're running out of time,

They need to pick the worthy ones,

Before Evil intertwines,

Thus Ancient Greymon found a way,

They released all of their Spirits,

To the Great Celestial Angels of heaven,

To give to the ones they're all prepared,

For their eternal slumbers,

Shall they wake from Death,

When the children collect the feathers.