If I told you a tale both merry and stale you might get very bored,
But add I will, until it’s filled with the sweetest kind of lore-
Oh’ the wood people were high and bright, yet closed off from the world
The bards would sing their his-tory, while they sang and drank all night-
Far to the east, a beast was born, war it’s only creed. Trained and bred it multiplied, they lived just to please.
Because the world would know, a story so old, the chaos it’s master would seek-
On and on the tale might go, if I had a talent for speech
Ha, this is just me being silly. I’m trying to channel my inner bard so to speak, and it’s becoming terribly enjoyable.