Legend Of Lebanon

• George Batour, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2010

A man without fear

He was a man who wanted one thing, freedom for his country, his people and his faith. He was a large healthy man with green eyes, the color of nature and fresh beginning. His face was pale and a long bushy goatee. He always clothed like a gentleman and solider when he spoke people they would listen to sound of his voice the raw of his sound would bring armies to its knees.

His heart made out of gold. The passion and love he had touched the souls of everyone that knew him for who he is and what he is. It knew no bounds especially for the people he served. A loyal serve to God and to his country.

He had no fear and no regret when faced by the forces of evil, and death itself. His faith he had in God was limitless through god he knew he could do anything and conquer his obstacles. The passion he showed when he fought affected the hardest of men, it struck sorrow into the hearts of the woman and it inspired the young.

He rode on a bulky black stallion. It ran faster then lighting and its sound echoed through the wind wherever it went. Its immense brown eyes would sink deep into your heart. The sound of its feet when running furiously on Gods green earth shook the heavens.

When he rode the horse hanging next to it was, the sword of freedom, a sword that devoured the enemy a number of times and brought victory to the people. The sword was lengthy in size and had a radiant color that shone harder then the sun. It was razor-sharp and hand curved with perfection.

Coming back from a long campaign, there was a local church in the village, so he decided to attend the mass give thanks for breathing once again and coming back alive. As they were in the listening to the heartwarming mass, a thunderous sound thumped the doors. The forces of evil and hate came for us. He ordered his men not to progress until the mass was over.

Once it ended they ripped the doors and engaged the enemy clashing swords and blood flying across there faces and men falling at there feet. The battle had seemed endless and they weren’t far from tasting victory. Like a lion he attacked anyone that confronted him each one of them tasting the end of his sword.

A loud and monstrous noise was storming towards him, with no clue or knowledge of what it might be, as he tired around a big heavy sphere hit him and blew him away as if the hand of god came down on him. It had left him broken and bloody unable to move an inch and hope had escaped him.

His last words were to his brothers in arms, “God will never leave u, never give up and always fight and protect wants yours”.

Legends never die.