In Love Conquering

Their once was a craftsman in mountain deep

Who long ago the fire would keep.

He sang lovely songs, as his heart would weep,

Tears blinding his eyes he would sing of his grief

Of Jewels and dark stones

Of kings' ancient bones,

His heart broke, the flames licked

His grimy hands with sweat now slicked.

The arms that once pounded anvil-stone

Withered and died, ending as bone

That Mountain Ghouls found and burned

And into their realm the mountain turned.


A king sat upon a golden throne,

His dark beard tinged with silver tone.

His chest fell, he wept at a fate

That was filled with the sorrow that ruled his hate.

A father gone, a mother dead;

These visions swirled thick in his head.

Leaning upon a sturdy stave,

He knelt and wept upon empty grave

And vowed their deaths he would repay.

He stood and turned, looking half-crazed,

Drawing his sword in a kind of daze.

Before him now a dragon stood,

Its eyes gleamed yellow as it looked for food.

The king raised his sword, but now his weary hand

Fell heavy as the fiery beast unleashed a blazing brand.

His nights were scattered, running in fright,

The fields were burned and all in sight.

His bones rested in a dragon's cave

And smoldering on the ground lay the ashes of his stave.


A bright young lad upon a bank sat

Twirling his feet in a watery vat.

His song was told of love,

His voice rose sweetly like a dove.

He sat unaware of the shadow

That in his footsteps followed.

A bow rang; an arrow in his shoulder grew,

Over the soft earth his blood was strewn.

A maiden's cry and feet resounded

In the little glade with trees surrounded.

She wept when her fallen love she spied

And broken with grief she beside him died.


The morn was light, the birds sang,

The late rose in tree's roots sprang.

Steps of an elf with flaxen hair

Were heard in the breeze of dawn's crisp air.

Her gown shimmered in the new light

Reflecting sparks on her fair face bright.

About her throat with silver clasped

A bright elf-stone on her breast did rest.

The long ages were wrought with hate

But fear and evil were not all fates.

Deep wounds caused by past torturous years

Now on that blessed day were healed.

Fingers entwine in the maiden's fair hand.