The ballad of Faelyn the Fair

The elf maid shook her long dark hair

And girded on her sword

T’was time to ride, and fight and die,

To slay the tyrant lord.


Faelyn knew not if she would live

To see another morn,

But knew her path and destiny

Was set ere she was born.


Make haste! Make haste! The heralds cry

The army shouts as one

With clarion calls the brass erupts

And thus the day began.


Grey clouds roll back, from burning sun,

Blood-red the shining dawn

Faelyn the Fair prepared to ride

Her thirsty blade full-drawn.


Through rocky pass and wind-blown grass

Through desert, fen and wood,

The gallant elf-maid led her men

And many trials withstood.


‘Til finally at day’s late close

She faced the darkling lord

And led the charge atop her mare

Through raging river ford.


The battle claimed a thousand lives

The dark lord wanted one

And yet, Faelyn the Fair survived

Until the day was done.


Alone she faced him, as the night

Drew cold and close around,

They strove and fought with sword and might

As night crept o’er the ground.


Her strength all gone, her body weak

She raised a trembling hand

And cast the spell that broke his hold

And freed the ‘prisoned land.


Fair maid, she stood against the dark

And triumphed in the field,

For she, unlike all other elves

Refused at last, to yield.


But, what of Faelyn? Strong of heart

She journeyed from that land

And left the elves to peace and wisdom,

As her last command.


This is part of the world building that I planned to explore the character of Faelyn more (please take a look at ‘Faelyn and Halueth’, if you are interested). I love ballad metre, it’s great discipline for poetry writing! 


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