Drow – Poetry

“I send you on a quest, fair lad,
to concur the evil one,
where the Drow imprisons the mad,
to free yourself, my son.”

“What is this Drow of loneliness?
What hides within its guile?
Where sadness escapes not its abyss
and life lives not for a little while.”

So he went alone, on foot,
to find and face his demon foe,
to sand and woods black as soot
where no life dares to go.

Footsteps silent in the whining wood,
his eyes sunk beneath his brow,
like a maddened knight he stood
dark within the Drow.

“Who is this? What is here?”
Wondered he with a glassy smile,
then continued on without a care
to complete his deadly trial.

Forward came the foe he sought,
forward the demon of queer race,
with his sword in hand he fought,
till it ended with a chase.

Amongst the whining woods he ran,
grasping at whispers through the ruffling hair,
till he caught the beast, it was he the man…
Startled, he awoke within his own lair.

– Stephanie Lowrie

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