Francesca Burkett
Once there was a little girl
As quiet as a mouse
Who always sat among her books,
In the corner of her house.
Characters would come to life
As her eyes flew across a page.
She’d read more books than most
Even twice her age.
So many stories she perused,
Tucked up within her attic.
But still she yearned for more…
A tale of love, adventure, magic.
One day she came across a book
Covered in runes, a ring, an eye,
weary travelers, wandering paths,
And she could not but wonder why.
It all began with a party,
dazzling lights, and mystery.
Then soon a golden, weighty gift,
And stories of endless history.
The merry four to a saddened nine,
Leave the homey shire,
Journeying down a perilous path
To the mountain of fire.
At first a promise binds them,
Its strength what drives the quest.
But greed corrupts the stoutest heart,
And soon peril becomes a test.
The nine are split in many ways,
As each must face their destiny.
Fate sends each to separate paths
that bring about the prophecy.
A pitied creatures joins as guide,
for a bit of gold controls him.
Screeching wraiths comb mountainsides,
While the searching eye grows never dim.
The forces gather at the mount,
As the two stumble on alone.
The evil force is near too great,
For the King to have the throne.
A struggle at the pit of fire,
In the land where shadows lie.
No more shall darkness bind them,
For here did evil die.
As the king claimed his rightful place,
The girl stirred within her seat.
A world of lore before her dreamy eyes,
Its runic lines complete.