The one born pure and unblemished stands,
From mother's womb into fortune's hands.
In the splendor of a child's laughter,
Shall live and die for fate's sake thereafter.
Years will pass, the time will come to be known,
To curse, and to praise the one who is now grown.
Master of swords, warrior for love,
He will accept fate's decree from up above.
The mother, weeping her grief,
Will treasure his toil in spirit and belief.
And kiss his fallen, bleeding body in her wait,
And celebrate his heroics in a song of fate.
YOU ARE READING
Legend of the Stones 1: Rise of the Hybrid
FantasyA mysterious force, known as the Mystery, handed down twelve traits and twelve magic stones to humankind. Thousands of years later, people live alienated, trusting in a corrupt royalty, and unaware of a prophecy that is coming to fruition. The Rise...
