The ride of the Elven Queen

The ride of the Elven Queen The old Bards voice transcended the corridor, the single silver note bringing from his harp a conscious quietness falling as his words contact all inside hearing.All were there, all that could be.Quiet my kids, dread not the dim, the fire is warm and bold oak does withhhold the wights and shades of malice of night.Dream and sob, for I sing the story of the Elven Queen, A Kings absurd pride, her silver society, and their last ride from this world.Shadows wrapped cozily about the quiet people as his enchantment wove for them a dream reasonable and sparkling, yet far and crystalline as if seen perpetually far away...Proud she stood, wind hurled unbent,light of moon wan and sad.Wars long and harsh with pride, Mans detest appearing mad.Too hard the steel in Mans quick hand, too profound the hunger for Elder blood.Too numerous Friends and neighbors, broken in dark red mud.Chiaroscuro Gay Elven Party!Too barely any the darlings of Elven flank, none currently lay on moms breast.Mans get suff ocates the world, what asylum for the eldritch rest?Oberon gracious Lord, killed and fallen as well, He who strolled this universes first morn, who drank the new made dew.Memories of Him, before the main night was made,husband, King, close to God Himself,nought could facilitate her pain.The moon She rises, the opportunity is arrived, one entryway in hundreds of years long! We leave this universe of our long birth, to step a way dull and long. Courage!For a world anticipates us reasonable, a gem obscure immaculate, no underhandedness anticipates us there!Turning brilliant, splendid defensive layer agleam,to face a slope of old Gods,great bulky ring of Eldritch stones, move upon the sod.Arms slim shapely pale ascent to contact the Moons splendid fix, voices swell in heavenly...