About S'zella.. obviously.
A time of war and violence waged
Of vanity and hatred made
A simple S'Kra destined for the Dragon Mantle
But this fate Dzree's malice could not swallow
The age was changing from peace to strife
The clans battled each other in petty fights
But in the solace of the academy grounds
It is here his love S'zella found
She trained for in studies for the Ducet Goddess
Her beauty and voice made the world fall quiet
Marked to be the High Priestess, rumours said
And though some thought this would bode badly, S'zella had no dread
For his skills and duties called him out to war
He told Isharra words of love, of hope and of return
Softly he would have said these words to is Poho Isharra
His only love, Isharra
While brave S'zella was off to the fight,
A jokester thought to give Isharra a bit of a fright
He went to her and spoke of her lover dead
The dire feeling she expected in her heart ran to her head
Her golden scales will shine no more
Black mourning root still in her hand
Isharra passed from this land
To hold the waiting hand of Damarris
And now she passes into the land of lore
But on the rise of Xibar next, S'zella returned
Riding in on the dakohirdu of which he was so fond
To his friend Densaar he speaks, inquires
Why does Densaar wear the white of mourning
What innocent died, that you must wear the white?
His voice broke, he realised without being told
The white was for the love he once had held
He cried for the blood of the prankster who had caused
The death of his beloved Poho Isharra
An iron q'zhalata was offered, but fiery S'zella refused
A silver blade must be used, he cried!
Isharra was Tuul-slept and he would vanquish the enemy
With a gleaming silver blade
With the jewelry of his beloved, a silver q'zhalata created
Will he use the Lanahh'zhra to perform his rightful revenge?
No! S'zella cried, a bloodlust hunger in his eyes
And he returned with the taint of blood on his hands
Revenge, so sweet but so sad
Cast off now, from the Priests S'zella made his way
With writing satire with a dark and cynic flair
Heightened fame brought Dzree to his door
At this S'zella did not flinch
He strode before her like a fool and mocked her troubled mind
Bards perhaps she hated before, now she detested more
But mockery was more than her unbalanced mind could handle
Her temper already short wore thin and S'zella was ordered dead
The guards rushing in, willingly and S'zella fell while laughing
He joins Isharra now, his Poho Isharra, beautiful Isharra
May they dance together in Peri'el's song
And never more be parted
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AIM: Ysselt
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DragonRealms
