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KWhite

The old Bards voice rose above the hall, the single silver note bringing from his harp a respectful silence falling as his words touch all within hearing.
All were there, all that could be.

"Quiet my children, fear not the dark, the fire is warm and stout oak does withhhold the wights and evils of night.
Dream and weep, for I sing the tale of the Elven Queen, A Kings foolish pride, her silver folk, and their last ride from this world."

Shadows wrapped snugly about the silent folk as his magic wove for them a vision fair and glittering, yet far and crystalline as though seen forever far away...

"Proud she stood, wind tossed unbent,
light of moon wan and sad.
Wars long and bitter with pride, Mans hate seeming mad.
Too hard the steel in Mans swift hand, too deep the thirst for Elder blood.
Too many Friends and neighbors, broken in crimson mud.

Too few the babes of Elven loin, none now rest on mothers breast.
Mans get drowns the world, what haven for the eldritch rest?

Oberon oh Lord, slain and fallen too, He who walked this worlds first morn, who drank the fresh made dew.
Memories of Him, before the first night was made,
husband, King, near God Himself,
nought could ease her pain.

"The moon She rises, the time is come, one gate in centuries long! We leave this world of our long birth, to tread a path dark and long. Courage!
For a world awaits us fair, a jewel unknown untouched, no evil awaits us there!"

Turning magnificent, bright armor agleam,
to face a hill of ancient Gods,
great hulking ring of Eldritch stones, dance upon the sod.

Arms slender shapely pale rise to touch the Moons bright hem, voices swell in angelic hail, powers roil and tides are stemmed.
Ancient strength and wisdoms's will,
The Queen in silver Majesty called, a cry no words could compass still, a plea, a scream,
rage with which a soul to scald.

Lightnings crashed and silence ruled one golden moment long.
No wind did flow, water froze, no bird dared sing one song.
In anger the Sun did stop his walk, Tears from the moon did fall.
Sweet blood of the Elven shed,
Urth bedecked in sorrows pall.

Slow march in solemn tune, The fair folk bowed did walk,
that host of fair seeming, ne'er slowed nor did they balk.
Bright Knights and succubi, nixies gnomes and wights.
Haggard kings of olden time, selkies, gnomes, and sprites.


The sun did rise, and all was done, the Queen awaited him, her folk safe beyond the world, pride graved face fair but slim.

"It was love M'lady"
He spoke, as He stepped victorious from wondrous steed, her voice an aching melody, denied him all his need.

"Nay, mine enemy, who never needed be.

Mine eyes are open, in the morning light, clearly do I see.
Love did not guide the steel that elven children slew.
Nor did it loose the cursed shaft that pierced my Oberon through."

Arms clad in deadly steel, idly through her did sweep, away she was, to another world, yet this she had to speak.

"To the victor the spoils, oh mighty King, of them may you be glad.
years will roll and centuries ring, magic will not be had. Yours the steel and artifice, ours the wondrous sight, of dwarves and speaking trees, the full moons silvered might"

Dark rolled the clouds, her words a storm did brew,
bright lightning danced and bowed,
as wonder through the circle flew.

"No Djinn no demons, no unicorn, oh King of a poor poor land.
No magic morning, no fantasy, Thus be your race Thrice damned"

Thus spake the Queen before she walked, soft beauty of an ancient age, away from this our own green world, to grace another stage.

Soft the tears that fell as rain about the world that day,
tears of Gods and Mother Urth, for those who rode away.
Man had won, or so it seems, yet a longing ache remains.

For Elves, and unicorns, pixies tricks and growling Trolls so large.
Nixies, dryads, nymphs so fair, talking pictures in golden frame,
muttering Wizards with balding hair, and magics brilliant flame"


The Old Bard stopped his song, the fire had fallen low, looking about the sleeping throng, watching the dreams soft glow, a tear fell to slide forgotten between stones well fit and new,
a tear for all that an old old man once knew.

Kelly White
Copyright
22-jun-02

 

Herb Ninja

I don't know what to say... i'm sure somebody will have a comment more interesting, i'm kinda speachless. That must have took a while to write though.... nice.

KWhite

Thank you

krunkpuppy

Defintely deep and reflects much education and a fine ability to write. Excellent!