The ride of the Elven Queen

The ride of the Elven Queen The old Bards voice transcended the lobby, 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 youngsters, dread not the dim, the fire is warm and strong 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 just as observed always far away...Proud she stood, wind hurled unbent,light of moon wan and sad.Wars long and unpleasant 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 ruby mud.Chiaroscuro Gay Elven Party!Too scarcely any the angels of Elven midsection, none currently lay on moms breast.M ans get suffocates the world, what sanctuary 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 principal night was made,husband, King, close to God Himself,nought could facilitate her pain.The moon She rises, the opportunity is arrived, one door 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 shrewdness anticipates us there!Turning brilliant, splendid defensive layer agleam,to face a slope of antiquated Gods,great lumbering ring of Eldritch stones, move upon the sod.Arms slim shapely pale ascent to contact the Moons splendid stitch, voices swell in saintly...