Awakening

Silence
In the great hall
Except for his breathing
Not a wind, to disturb him
Not a soul, to call out to him,
To wake him, from his deep slumber
Lasting through aeons
While the world went about
Its routine business
Forgetting about their long awaited messiah;
But now their body stirs
And the blood-red eyes open
As the hand slowly moves
Towards the sheathed sword.