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Friday, December 2, 2011

Ancient Elven Song and Riddle

Stones of song, singing high, pillars pointing to the sky, in olden glory shining.

Darken rock, ebon of heart, yet evil tis, of you, no part, eldest gate now closed.

King is key, opened to our past, wherein Elven futures were ever cast, destined to open again.

Oh stones, so old hoarfrost in time, where old ghosts play, eoned rime and lost songs still echo.

First it was, last it shall be, our mother heart, the soul of we who are of Elven kind.

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