The Isle of Stone
I once knew a story older than time.
Yet the story is so old now it's in all the rhymes.
So I'll try to tell it, when it was first began.
Once there was a maid, who wore a silver light.
And upon her head, poppies bloomed.
To many a person's delight.
This maid however lived alone, lost forever.
Till one day, a boy had been sent to find her.
He traveled here and there, without really a care.
Minding his own business, till at last he came.
To a place where the world meets the sea,
A fortress of stone laid before him.
Curious the boy entered, and there he found the maid.
With poppies red like blood in her hair,
And eyes as dark as an animals prey,
He asked her name.
Though that is as far as my tale goes,
For the boy never left that isle of stone.