Shadee

All books will be destroyed by time.

All inks will succumb to its strength.

All weapons will accompany its masters in their death

and all people who remember the history will die.

Yet the songs are here about to stay.

These living memories of all past ages,

of beauties unknown and fights outrageous.

Such tales will last thorough the day.

And now even I became a part of that chain.

Simple bard, singing heart-rending tale of sacrifice

of one maiden and one White who together rolled the dice.

Lifes were lost, yet greater fame was gained.

Leading men, he voiceless ruled,

his fist enough to be their guard,

nothing less than freedom of his people his reward,

brave and hard in battlefield he stood.

Only one thing he loved more than his own kin,

-for he was the leader greatest of them all,

yet one thing which over his senses he adored,

made no less damage than any other sin.

They fought mercilessly, stood side-by-side,

cleaning face of earth from the filth and traitors

and all along trying to dissimulate their demeanors,

yet he knew that she decided to die.

She- was not White, nor the queen of Warden,

she was nothing more than a simple maiden.

They called her kind a priest-

-but no other like her will ever exist.

Her own purity called the doom upon her head.

The battle- hush, hard, roared under the mountains high

and the sorrowful moan that sprung of furious fight,

dared her to use the power which she had.

Her beloved ones, they all were fighting.

For freedom, cause and truth were dying,

smothering beneath the powers that she wore,

was decided she will cease this endless war.

The ritual started, no warning from her side,

it was all now written crystal clear in her mind.

Limits overcame, boundaries were crossed,

to protect what she treasured for the most.

Those who opposed suddenly stood dazed,

once light, then strength caught enemies amazed.

Great victory was finally at hand,

the king will reclaim once more his beloved land.

But the priest ran far over her own constraints.

That night she joined the holy company of saints.

There were no feasts that night- no tradition was born,

for land was caught in dreary woe and mourn.

But this is the tale of how the peace was gained.

New king wise and fairly for a long time reigned,

his word was law, and sword brought the order which was lost.

No enemy his kingdom`s borders ever again crossed.

History is kept in the hearts of the living things.

The land and the water still the precious memories brings.

Tears and blood which once fell upon the Crystal Fields,

would never really vanish- even after all these years.

But as long as there is someone who can sing

and who`ll breathe the life to stories old as time,

offsprings of the world would towards morality climb

and our descendants for the history would dig.

Everything will change with the drop of the cathartic rain,

but songs would never forget that famous name.

With delicate, gentle breeze,

and the last breath of all dying trees,

Bodies shattered, graves vanished and domains rotten,

Shadee`s efforts would never be forgotten.