The bright stars gleamed in yonder skies as I unleashed my earthly sighs, watching them twinkle, blazing bright, balls of fire, all gleaming with light.
The faint clouds stood still; and up my back, I felt a chill. A ghost appeared with hair of gray and took my hand-- led me astray.
Into the night we glided o'er fields. Her eyes met mine; I refused to yield as we flew o'er wheat and barley grass, great rolling streams and Misty Pass.
She took me to the mountains old and gently tapped on the doors of gold; answering us came the Dwarf King, and on his finger was a signet ring.
The King was Arnot, lord of the valley, and his lightweight clothes were of challis. He deeply bowed and swept us inside, where music and dancing never subside.
We danced to a music lost in ages since the Dark Days began with the birth of a Prince. The drums were beat, the minstrels sang, and at the gates, the trumpets rang.
Then I awoke in my linen bed, having ne'er left home, or eve my bed. I wasn't there-- I had merely a dream. But the ghost girl's heart was in my embrace.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
The western seas have passed away-- look at the gulls as they flee towards the waters of the distant realm beyond! Meretica they call it, the twin to Belecthoria in the east.
Falembaifar went there many seasons ago, dwelling the the Far West as the East lay dying beneath an ancient sun as the moon faded into blackness, the dark covering all the land.
There he made a new home in the mountains and the great valley, building Sanctum and the Lair, filling the West with love and spirit. Many followed him there, living in peace as the years passed.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
Over many years, I have seen many things; jewels, sapphires, and crystal rings. Many gifts have I had o'er all this time, from writing stories to rhyming rhymes.
But the greatest gift that I have had shows that good triumphs over bad. Having hope makes things bright, changing the dark world to a shining light.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
Forgive looking at all the squigglies, I couldn't get this to format very well any other way and couldn't make them invisible enough to go unnoticed ;-;
Tennessee mountain water, drip ~~~~~drip, dripping ~~~down the mountainside, gathering up in ~~~~ the basin far below. Fresh, clear, and cool, ~~~it gathers in the valley, ~~~~~~drip, drip, dripping ~~~~to the ground, gathering in pools ~~until the water drips no more.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
Sílriel the Maiden-Fair was of the Elven-Kind; daughter she was to Falembaifar, lord of the distant northern forests, and his wife, Altheatiel, from the far west beyond the sea.
Sílriel the Maiden-Fair went on the road one day, traveling from Owl Tree to Laenaelaen's endless plain. "[i]Dux Domini! Dux Domini![/s]" she cried out all the way. "The [i]Dux Domini[/s] shall protect us from this endless fray!"
Sílriel the Maiden-Fair met Harndir there beneath the Moon, coming to love the Chieftain though his life was not much good. They were wed on the solstice as the moon hung low in the sky, thinking it would protect them, though it was just a lie.
Sílriel the Maiden-Fair gave birth to her only son, Michael the First of the Dragonheart line-- yes, he was the one that would save and redeem their families after she'd passed away. Then she'd rest in peace as her descendants took the reigns.
Sílriel the Maiden-Fair died one autumn day as goblins fed on her bones and life all but passed away. She died beneath a harvest moon as stars twinkled in her eyes; Harndir died beside her, never to be seen again.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
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