Darken Wood

The world was white with snow anew
When dawn met with this morn's first breath
And Elvin eyes sparkled with a wondrous awe
That could not be stopped but with love or death.

While the fair elf maiden on her milkwhite steed
Gently pressed fine footprints to the velvet frost,
She uncovered from a drift a chilled sleeping form.
The fair young prince to whom her heart would be lost.

The brave young prince had been riding for days,
Fighting in the King's most noble cause,
But weary and wounded his strength gave out,
Her fate would save him from grim death's jaws.

She nursed him to health with all her care and might,
And as his strength grew so did his love for her.
Her smooth, pale hands, her golden hair,
And her eyes like the sweet green heather.

The princess, too, kept him always on her thoughts.
She loved to hear the stories he told
Of the places he'd been and the wonders he'd seen,
And the knights he had fought who were brave and bold.

The prince grew stronger every day
And she stayed with him all the while,
'Til one day they ventered to take a walk
Near the edge of Darken Wood, along the Highland Stile.

And in that place, a short time thence,
They were royally declared prince and wife.
She looked into his azure eyes and vowed,
"I will give thee my love, if you'll pledge me your life."

A truer, more pure love had ne'er been seen.
'Twas the paradigm none else could find.
The key to true love and the power of wit
To quench both the flesh and the mind.

A walk in the wood brought a perilous fight,
As a band of theives circled the two.
Well he could fight, but his true love was lost.
A dagger'd struck stright and true.

"You are my life, my dearest," he cried.
"Your strength is what pulsates my heart!"
"It was harshest mid winter when we loved," she gasped.
"And in this bleak cold we must part."

"I pledged thee my life," as he kissed her still lips,
Which had just begun losing their hue.
And with this he set out in a quest for revenge
To repay what was rightfully due.

He dreamt of her, if he slept; when he woke, she was there.
Full of beauty, of love, of life.
He three years traveled thus, ready to avenge,
Or to rejoin with his long lost wife.

When finally he met with the villianous scum,
His broadsword struck straight and true.
But a blossom of crimson also stained his chest,
And he knew that his days left were few.

As he lay near sleep, he again saw her shape.
"Let's take a walk," she said with a smile.
So they walked one last time, now together forever.
Near the edge of Darken Wood, Along the Highland Stile.