Disenchantment Flourishing in an Era

The Last Song of Liora

In valleys where the wildflowers grew,
And hills embraced the morning dew,
There flowed a river, Liora's name,
Her waters kissed with sunlight's flame.

In Eldoria, the river's grace
Nurtured life in every space.
Her clear streams danced through fields so green,
Where every ripple was a scene.

The people sang in joyful throng,
Their voices blending with her song.
Each spring they gathered by her side,
In Festival of Waters, far and wide.

But time brought change to the distant land,
Where steel and smoke would soon command.
The kingdom north, with progress grand,
Sought to tame Liora's strand.

Emissaries with their iron will
Came to change the river's thrill.
To build a dam and harness might,
They'd alter day, and shroud the night.

The village faced a heavy choice,
Their hearts divided, their voices poised.
They planned one final grand farewell,
A festival where memories swell.

Beneath the stars, Mira sat alone,
By the river's whispering tone.
She promised Liora, through her tears,
To keep her song throughout the years.

The dawn arose with a somber grace,
The village came to one last place.
The festival began with song and cheer,
A tribute to the river dear.

Mira's voice, a mournful plea,
Sung the last song of the flowing sea.
The river shimmered in response,
Its ripples danced, a fleeting trance.

The dam was built, the waters changed,
The landscape new, the old rearranged.
The factories rose with clamor loud,
Where once the river's silence bowed.

Yet every spring, the village sings,
Of Liora's gift and what it brings.
The song of old, of love and lore,
A melody from times of yore.

Though the river's course was lost in flow,
The echoes of its grace still glow.
In every note, the past remains,
A testament to the river's veins.

The last song lives in hearts anew,
A bridge between the old and new.
A memory of the river's song,
In Eldoria, where it still belongs.