The Ghost of the Forgotten Wood
The trees sway and grab with their fingers, The rain whips and the wind lingers, Like a roaring tiger, that is really loud, Upsetting leaves and the darkening clouds.
Yet softly I tread, for magic am I, Through thunder and rain and under the sky, I do not fear, I am not afraid, For I am a fair Elven maid.
I glide with the grace, and beauty of a bird, No-one can hear me, I cannot be heard, I used to live here, in a story long ago, But it was destroyed, and I was forced to go.
It was a sad story, many perished and died, The drums were rolling, and the arrows whistled by, The crash of armour, like a terrible thunder storm, The bang of swords, and the blowing of the horn.
The lightning flashed, and the rain continued to pour, Elves were falling, and goblins were gored, Horses whinnied, and bolted in fright, And galloped off into the dark night.
Then He appeared, gleaming like the sun, More goblins died, and He made them run, He was brave in battle, He was the lion of the wood, He made the goblins fall, He was completely good,.
But, alas! Those goblins had a hero too, A tall, evil, ugly thing and he had a large crew, He was a menace, he was a jagged sword, He wore black, and approached our high Lord.
No-one moved, except those Lords, Both had out their gleaming swords, They fought for length, until our Lord fell, The goblin raised his sword up high, a symbol of hell.
Now they killed and beat us again, And yelled and screeched and crushed our men,, One goblin raised his ugly head, Brought down his sword, and I was dead.
The trees sway and grab with their fingers, The rain whips and the wind lingers, Like a roaring tiger, that is really loud, Upsetting leaves and the darkening clouds.
Yet softly I tread, for magic am I, Through thunder and rain and under the sky, I do not fear, I am not afraid, For I am a fair Elven maid.
I glide with the grace, and beauty of a bird, No-one can hear me, I cannot be heard, I used to live here, in a story long ago, But it was destroyed, and I was forced to go.
It was a sad story, many perished and died, The drums were rolling, and the arrows whistled by, The crash of armour, like a terrible thunder storm, The bang of swords, and the blowing of the horn.
The lightning flashed, and the rain continued to pour, Elves were falling, and goblins were gored, Horses whinnied, and bolted in fright, And galloped off into the dark night.
Then He appeared, gleaming like the sun, More goblins died, and He made them run, He was brave in battle, He was the lion of the wood, He made the goblins fall, He was completely good,.
But, alas! Those goblins had a hero too, A tall, evil, ugly thing and he had a large crew, He was a menace, he was a jagged sword, He wore black, and approached our high Lord.
No-one moved, except those Lords, Both had out their gleaming swords, They fought for length, until our Lord fell, The goblin raised his sword up high, a symbol of hell.
Now they killed and beat us again, And yelled and screeched and crushed our men,, One goblin raised his ugly head, Brought down his sword, and I was dead.