The Firstlings
Title: The Firstlings
Author: Lylyth Mordayn
The first shall be
ancient of days,
ancient of lore, into
which the others
shall fall.
There shall come five
unto each of the
childern
and they shall give
The edge of promyse
And the gauntlet shall
Be taken up
To be cast
To be riven
To be delved
And the five shall
seek the wisdom
Of ages past
Of days of yore
And of the ancients
Of this land
In truen fashion
In truen wonder
In truen belief
And so the childern
Of men...untaynted
Shall offer promyse
And the curse
Shall be as smoke
In the silent wynd.
All shall be forgiven
When the childern
Of my secret
And foreboding heart
Gather in the forests
Of my conception
In the dark hours
And the golden eyes
Of one who waits
And of his curse
Are we driven...
Yet he loves
His childern still
And the Eastern Hand
Shall point the way
To salvation...
Beware his wrath
Beware the mysteries
And ye who dare love
The childern I bore
Beware...the curse...
Only
The strongest heart
Will prevail...
Only love that dwarfs
The ancient stars
Will be
Enough...
And only the man
With the patience
Of the Eagle
And the courage
Of the Lion
And the cunning
Of the panther
And the mind
Of the sage
Will win her heart.
