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I hear a whisper in the breeze,
Older than the seven seas,
A story of long ago,
When it began, I do not know.

A tale of the Elven race,
Who left this world without a trace,
A people once plenty,no longer here,
Gone forever, this much I fear.

They lived in peace, lovely and fair,
What riches they had, they would gladly share,
They loved this world, with all they had,
Which makes this story so terribly sad.

Man envied them to their very core,
Though the elves shared their wealth, they wanted more,
In this world there is no worst deed,
Than the evil things that come from greed.

Now the Elven Queen, as the story is told,
Had eyes of emeralds, and hair of gold,
Her beauty was legend,, her heart as well,
What was once good in Man, through this it fell.

There was an evil king in the land of Men,
Whose heart was greedy and full of sin,
Took for himself, eveything he could,
He wanted that queen, who ruled the Wood.

So he decided to make her his very own,
The lust of this thought, in his eyes it shone,
She would be his wife, he vowed to himself,
Together no one, could challange their wealth.

The Elven Queen was a virgin pure,
Her radiant goodness was this cold world's cure,
If she was ever touched by Man's cruel lust,
The Elven world would crumble to dust.

After a long journey, the king found her palace,
His soul full of evil, and unrelenting malice,
He found her chamber and went down to his knees,
"Be my wife, I beg of you please."

She smiled at him and shook her head,
"I can not do that" Was all that she said,
"Well my queen," He bellowed, anger his source,
"If you do not come, I'll take you by force."

When he raped the queen, the world went black,
The virtue of Man would never come back,
The Elves vanished on that terrible day,
Banished by evil, the old ones say.

The world could have been a wonderful place,
Where no one went hungry, or lived in disgrace,
Nothing is as beautiful as it was meant to be,
If we do not let go of greed, we will never be free.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


i enjoyed reading this story
- sad though t is...

one tiny nit
'Her beauty was legand' (legend)

thanks for sharing, lovely rhythm and rhyme
- nothing sounded forced .;..;

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Fab job as usual beautiful and well constructed.


Stand tall, be proud to be who you are, give the world the finger!!!!

thanks judy, i fixed the typo.

Much Love,

author comment

you are one of my heros

Much Love,

author comment
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