Upon Seeking the Schufftheim Glasses
What's the good of glamour in the world of modern men?
This festival of ancient souls became a drudging din!
Their eyes are inundated by the sight of weird and wild,
No longer looking past or fearing creatures once beguiled.
(*)
Where is the use of shimmering cloak of faerie majesty
In a world of men whose senses dulled to elfish sorcery?
Alas, my garb in grandest gold and dark as night as well
Has lost its sinister propensity to cast a frightening spell!
(*)
How can we live among them if our defenses are made null?
Tis true their tolerance increases, but lack of wisdom leaves them dull!
How can my father give his trust to beasts of vile intention,
That with glass forged by human hand created such invention?
(*)
To pierce the cowl of woven night that shielded human eyes,
And glass, on crystal lens, it pierces every Fey's disguise!
I'll seek the wretch that wrought each pair, and through the Schwarzvald haste
Til that foolish Schufftheim mortal, surrenders or gives chase!
(*)
Then down the blade, and drenched in blood,
The recompense is fair!
But blast, I find but three are here,
Where are the other pairs?!