To Nemea journeys Heras Wrath
On winding roads and hilly paths.
For many days he travel makes
To fight the lion and meet his fate.

And after many miles he's trod
He sets on top of hilly sod.
And rest with head that's sunken low
Like beat by many fearsome blows.

And low a peasant walking path
Did stop to speak to Heras Wrath.
"What lonely path for lonely man
Who rest on road where none now stand.

And sunken low with many care
In world that hardly ever fair.
To home of servant come and eat
And leave your woes on rural street."

To peasants home the hero went
His heart was heavy will was spent.
He took of peasants paltry goods
Whose meager stead alone was stood.

And Heras Wrath was taken back
At all the servants home did lack.
"Why live by self on barren plain
Where daily life is full of pain

Alone without a single friend
In home that's lacking any kin?"
And peasants face did grow with pain
When speaking quite of kin that's slain.

"The lion that stalks the mountain high
And looks on plain with evil eyes.
Has driven all who live away
Remaining few he's ruthless slain.

My son he took in field one day
When child had left my home to play.
Alone I live now waiting death
At hands of beast whose swift and deft."

And Heras Wrath resolve then grew
To find and kill the beast who slew
The child of man who hero host
And stick its head on spearing post.

"My  awful plight may purpose serve
Some good may come from wicked Tyrne.
At first no heart I bore for chores
I'm give by king in dozen score.

But good my efforts may bring to man
By serving kings own wicked pans.
And rid the world of evil beast
By granting king his vainest feast."