Poems and Short Stories

The Kingdom is a series of twenty-nine poems. Find all the poems here.

After the King returned to his oh so rightful place,

The orcs fled the palace at a quick and frightful pace.

They left the entire city with swift and fearful feet,

For the King’s power they would not even attempt to meet. 

The King overlooked his realm with sorrow in his eyes,

For he felt completely alone and he had no allies.

He walked through the halls thinking what he should do,

And up the stairs of a turret, he heard something out of the blue.

It came from a dark corner and he drew his sword,

Perhaps it was an orc that got left by the horde!

What stepped out of the darkness surprised the King,

It was the Half-Elf with beauty comparable to spring.

“Do my eyes deceive?” The King said with shock,

“Or is this another harbinger of the Tyrant’s flock?”

“Fear not!” The Half-Elf looked up at the King,

“I am here as a friend and good news I bring.”

The two walked down the tower and back to throne,

For the Half-Elf was to share the visions she was shown.

She was taught in her sleep of the birth of the Wraith,

But there was more to the Wraith for those who had faith.

When the King, long ago, had fallen through the crack,

He had fallen into darkness but was surely to come back.

“Do you remember?” The Half-Elf kindly asked,

“Being the Wraith with your identity masked.”

“It is burned into my mind,” the King slowly replied,

And then he looked to the ground completely teary-eyed.

The Half-Elf smiled, “your pain is understood,

but you would have changed if you really could.”

For the darkness was strong, even for the King,

A prophet of light was needed for the tides to swing.

And the Half-Elf was there to free up the throne,

For the King’s true identity to himself to be known.

“And now it is your time to finish your quest!”

The Half-Elf stood tall with pride in her chest.

She told the King that the time was approaching,

To overthrow the Tyrant and his darkness encroaching.

The Kingdom is a series of twenty-nine poems. Find all the poems here.

The wraith left the Dwarves, leaving a chill,

It terrorized the lands with an awful shrill.

With hate, it swallowed up many beasts and elves,

Leaving only their bodies, consuming their spirit selves.

The wraith saw the palace, when it noticed a burst of light, 

Though the palace was far, the wraith had very far sight.

The wraith felt a strange force towards the throne, 

And it moved for the palace with a gross moan.

It journeyed with speed, feeling the throne’s pull,

Though it took many days, even quick as a bull.

It arrived in the throne room, but it was empty,

The only presence was skulls, to count there were twenty.

As the wraith approached the royal King’s chair,

There was another blinding flash and red flare.

The hideous Wraith was sucked quickly into the flash,

And the wraith was completely consumed with a crash.

The Wraith was transformed with no one to see it,

Even to this day almost no one believes it.

The King stood again before his great halls,

The King stood again among the old walls!

The Kingdom is a series of twenty-nine poems. Find all the poems here.

The Half-Elf was grown, and she was a sight to see,

To speak of her marvelousness, she was equal to three.

On a warm spring noontide, flowers danced in the sun,

A vision was planted in her head, and her thoughts spun.

She saw the kingdom restored and peace upon the lands,

With memories of hope and love blowing with picked-up sands.

There was one thing she had to do, according to her dreams,

She had to free the throne from the Tyrant’s evil sewn seams.

She took her pilgrimage with fear hanging above her head,

For facing the Tyrant was something anyone would dread.

After her march, she looked upon the great kingdom’s palace,

For it is now a strange place twisted by the Tyrant’s cruel callous. 

She snuck ever so quietly into the city walls,

For orcs were abound in every building’s halls.

With a strong kick, she broke down the throne room’s doors,

And there was nothing but bones and blood covering the floors.

On the seat sat the Tyrant, very angry and proud,

He stood with a shock and let out a shout very loud.

The Half-Elf held up her hand and light burst from her palm,

And from her fair lips whispered a wonderful psalm. 

The Tyrant cowered from the Half-Elf’s amazing magic,

He ran from his seat for this power to him was tragic.

He jumped from the window and transformed to a bat,

The Tyrant looked back down at the palace and spat.

And he flew away quickly into the night, 

Back to his own throne to regain his might.

The Half-Elf hid off into a secluded tower,

For the orcs were still around with terrible power.

And there she hid for many days and days,

Waiting for the next step of her vision to blaze.

The Kingdom is a series of twenty-nine poems. Find all the poems here.

The Brave Knight in need of understanding, searching throughout the lands,

Goes to a mountain, where with a wise oracle he wishes to shake hands.

He climbs up the cold snowy slope,

Thinking he will find his own hope.

As he arrives, he sees the Oracle sitting calm,

With a small leather book sitting in his palm.

“Hello,” says the Brave Knight, looking down on the Oracle,

The Oracle looks up and sees something almost historical.

“The Chosen One!” the Oracle cries,

The Knight sits with pride in his eyes.

“I can see your destiny now,” the Oracle smiles,

“But you must understand, it has many hard trials!”

“I understand,” the Knight responds,

“Your wise words are truly my bonds.”

“Now, go!” the Oracle quickly points his finger,

“There is no reason for you, Knight, to linger.”

“I do not understand,” the Knight loudly exclames,

“How am I to understand my special flames?”

“You will know when you see it,” the Oracle replies,

“I said also the same to the last knight to actualize.” 

The Knight stands and cries, “But I am the Chosen One!

What is this devilry ahead of me that you have spun?”

“The Chosen One you are,” the Oracle stands,

“It is your destiny. Feel it in your hands?”

“I do not understand,” the Knight angrily protests,

“There being two Chosen Ones is what you confess?”

“No,” the Oracle says, “I do not say that there are two,

But that a destiny is something everyone must go through.”