In retreat
from the Lance Forest in flames
As she
crosses the bridge gone childhood games
In the
crucible of hard journeys trials
She thinks
back on her past looks down and smiles
Born to a
house of great wealth but no care
Of the
world’s troubles t’was never aware
She quietly
rests by a broad trees’ shade
And thinks
of the new friends she has just made
The tree
starts to move like naught ever seen
It’s leaves
shimmer colors reds, purples, greens
The smell it
gives off a fragrant bouquet
Tucked under
its branches here I could stay
It speaks to
us says we are sufficient
We must fix
the hole; fill what was rent
The Avatar
is what by men I'm called
And what it
did next my heart it appalled
It conjured
a small songbird onto a branch
And again
its next move cause me to blanch
For it
crushed the songbird onto my blade
And with
this fierce magic new it was made
He called me
his child, he called me “Blood Song”
this violent act seemed so terribly wrong
It’s voice
was so gentle, my view so minute
It’s wisdom
and depth one could not dispute.
In the end I
suppose all go to the grave
And what
matters most is that we are brave
The rest
they too, all received a small gift
As it told
us we must repair the rift.
It predicted
for each a path of great fate
Cryptically
it spoke no answer was straight.
It spoke to
us. I thought of the seven.
Then the
broad tree seemed normal again.
T’was gone
in a flash as if n’er t’was there.
But in its
place now our moods much more fair
Seven in
number our rag tag small crew
My goodness
what if those tales are all true.
The road
ahead a dangerous affair
So, let’s
onto this rift to mend the tear.
