A Saga:
A land, once fair and free,
Now shrouded and dim;
The misty fingers of evil
Came creeping in.
Del Ratia's skies were darkened
By forces grim:
Crom Cruach, with his brethren,
Their reign began.
With terror and with slaughter
Their darkness spread,
O'ertaking men and beasts
With fear and dread.
The light began to fade,
And in its stead,
It left despair, and wearied,
Bloodied heads.
All hope seemed gone; what chance
Had simple men
Against Crom Cruach, Donn,
And Morrigan?
Yet still, a few brave souls,
Once now and then,
Would struggle to be free,
And fight again.
And then their fight was heard!
And slow, but sure,
A band began to gather
To ensure
That what they knew as home
Would still endure;
And they would give their lives
To keep it pure.
From wild, rugged lands,
The ranger came.
With eagle eye, and swift,
Unerring aim;
With wily bolas to
Entrap and maim;
With strength and skill he rose
To hero's fame.
Forefront into the fray,
With sword and shield,
A warrior, strong and steady
In the field;
With honor and with strength
A sword could wield;
He never thought to tremble,
Quake or yield.
Out of the shadows crept,
With stealthy tread,
A rogue, inspiring just
A chill of dread.
Whate'er his past, what blood
Was on his head,
Still he could fight, and leave
A wake of dead.
Then from the earth there came
A gentler face:
A druid, with the lore of
All his race.
What powers had he! What gentle,
Healing grace!
Gave life with but a touch,
Or an embrace.
And then, from none knows where,
A mystic came:
A mage, the sorcerous child
Of ice and flame.
With magic, dark and deep,
He soon became
A force to be reckoned, a great
And fearsome name.
Then this strange company,
This little band,
Joined heart with heart, and clasped
Each hand in hand.
They swore to lift the darkness
From the land,
And live or die, they vowed
to make their stand.
Without a moment's pause,
A thought's delay,
They threw themselves into
The bloody fray.
Their fierce and passioned fight,
With each new day,
Began to fill their foes
With deep dismay.
And now I pause, before I
Bid adieu.
I tell this tale as though
It was long through;
As though each battle fought
Were old, not new.
Not so; still foes are many,
Heroes few.
The war still rages. The mighty
Fight and fall.
They give their lifeblood, glory,
Honour, all.
The battle will be long, and fierce the brawl,
But brave new souls still
Answer to the call.
And in the end, the darkness
Will be gone.
The grim, foreboding force
Shall be withdrawn.
Joy, peace shall come again,
and with the dawn,
Del Ratia's glorious light
Shall carry on!
*edit* Lol! Sorry... I just saw the memo to try and keep under 20 lines of text... Oops. Sorry...
*edit #2*
Remember to stay within 20 lines!
I truly am sorry about the excessive length of my poem. I didn't even see the 20 line bit until my poem was written and posted, and even then I thought it was more of a suggestion than a rule. I do apologize. Please don't disqualify me on that.