The Trees Whisper

Dol Blathanna

Deep in
the lap of eternally napping lands,
enclosed by the sound of thousand streams,
dreaming,
cradled by the long forgotten lays,
unaware of forth coming grieves.

Flowery vale where lingers golden light,
drowned in the scents of ease and pride.

Darkness
devoured by the flickering flames,
suffering through their blackened greed.
Their hands
stained in the blood of elven veins,
crooked will, reapers of the wicked seed.

Flowery vale where lingers golden light,
drowned in the scents of ease and pride.

Darkness kindling bright torches of Night,
slumbering
vale wrapped in mists imbued in their blood,
thundering
drums riding battle cries, eyes once bright
turning blind.