Hi everyone...
Here is a very, very...*yawn* long poem for you...so you may fall asleep before the end. LOL
Anyway...hope some of you manage to get through it.
The fall and rise of Galanthos
There was a story told to me when as a child I lay
in rapt attention to the words that haunt me to this day.
Concerning of a hidden stone known only to a few,
that should it be discovered thus, could tear our world in two.
I listened as the Elders spoke in hushed and laboured tones
of warriors with silver helms and belts of human bones
that clicked and rattled as they bounced against their naked skin
and cries of war soared like the winds and chilled the soul within.
And as the tale unfolded so I learned of many things,
the wars between Galanthos and the passing of the kings.
The battles of Isirion and of Berethil the Bold...
the laying waste of cities lost to places dark and cold.
And as the tale grew taller so a shadow came to pass
and lingered like a memory in some forgotten past,
a memory upon a wind that blew upon a shore
and brought with it destruction like was never seen before.
As demon ships with sails ablaze rode seas of bloodied foam
and carried with them magic runes so deftly etched in stone.
The Stone to end our freedom and in darkness so endure
a century of tyranny, enslaved for evermore.
For in this Stone of Power lay the curse to bind us all.
To make us do their bidding and to heed their masters call.
To summon up the spirits of the dead that we had slain,
rearming them with mighty swords so they may fight again.
So battles raged for many years for those that had the will
to fight the evil forces that within their hearts would chill
the very marrow in their bones until their souls were forced
to flee this pain and torment, this demonic holocaust.
Unable to defeat the ghostly army they did fall
as one by one they stood together, backs against the wall.
Then with a last drawn breath they raised their heads and turned to face
The Ocean of Undo-ing, and their final resting place.
The place where Lords and legends lie, where heroes fall to rest
to lie in peace and solitude, with shields upon their breast
and silver bladed swords in hand as if they lay in sleep
beneath the blue and salty sea, in waters dark and deep.
And darkness ruled the kingdom that was lost to mortal men
the like of which were vanquished and would never rise again
and all around was silent and was lost in dark decay
for there was nought but shadow 'neath a canopy of grey.
PART TWO
Many years had passed and many moons had crossed a sky
that looked down on Galanthos as the seasons passed it by
and then the faintest light appeared to rise above the sea
illuminating, growing in it's luminosity...
...and still the light grew stronger 'til the shadows shrank away
and hid themselves bewildered by the dawning of the day
and with the light the swelling tides did crash upon the shore
and flooded o'er all until Galanthos was no more.
And thus it was our Kingdom sank beneath the raging sea
washed of all the evil and the years of tyranny.
Cleansed of all the blood that ran and stained the soil red,
healed once more and hallowed in remembrance of the dead.
Then after forty days and nights a storm broke in the East
that started like a murmuring from some awakened beast,
then grew into a roar as if the Kraken were reborn...
Galanthos had arisen with the coming of the storm.
'Twas then the ships came sailing like a beacon in the night
and sailed on ever closer with their sails of purest white.
With masts of polished ebony and etched with magic staves
with figureheads of unicorns that pranced upon the waves.
And on the rolling decks where light descended from the skies
the silhouettes of men appeared with stars upon their eyes.
With shining helms of silver and their breasts adorned with gold...
the heros of Galanthos stood, the warriors of old.
For The Ocean of Undo-ing had returned their souls this night.
To once again protect the shores, to live again and fight
for honour and for freedom and to once again rebuild
the glory of Galanthos, and the forging of a Guild.
And when the Brotherhood was formed they searched the land to find
the evil stone of power that could tear and break and bind.
But nought could e'er destroy it so they chose to place it deep
within a pit, there to remain, forevermore in sleep.
So there it slumbers waiting for it's time to rise again.
To sate it's lust for power and to revel in the pain
To work its runic magic and to once again release
it's poison through our kingdom like some virulent disease.
And even now when skies grow dark and storm clouds hide the moon
and chill winds shake the Eldar trees and all the leaves are strewn...
then something stirs among the roots in caverns underground
for something lies beneath us that should never e'er be found.
Some say it lies near "Haven-ford" and some say "Eithel's Keep,"
some say it lies in Isingor, or North where Icebears sleep.
Some say it's best forgotten...let it lie with those that knew...
for should it be discovered thus, could tear our world in two.