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About This Poem
The Siege of Temporial
Riding through the forest hard
is the rider---Elven Bard,
riding through with trusty steed---
feels the city in it’s need.
Riding hard and riding lone,
no one tracks him where he goes.
Bursting through the forest trees---
It is this call that he heeds.
Down along the battle line
is a horn that is raised again.
Moving to their new positions,
make their way with true precision.
Then at last the rider comes,
summoned to the battle front.
Evil crawls out amongst the land.
The city makes its greatest stand.
Riding now across the lines,
he waits for them to give the sign.
Helmet glows with Elven fans.
Now its time to free the land.
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