The Lay of Mallion

 

The Lay of Mallion

 

 

 

The world was young,

With new born light,

Of the moon and of the sun.

Then was borne a blight,

Evil spawned in darkness,

With an envy for all unblemished life.

 

It was christened Shaidey,

Gathered forces for oppugn,

Against light for the end of day,

It cursed the world with its endless sin,

Good will began to falter,

Hearts troubled with sorrow.

 

Just as the world was about to fail,

Though it had just begun,

A hero arose, thin and pale,

The sword he bore glinted in the sun,

But behold!  Night was almost upon him,

And Shaidey in his cruel malice,

Rose up to smite this young hero.

 

Against all hope and odds borne,

The young man stood tall,

His courage no longer forlorn,

For the hopes of all,

Were upon his shoulders,

But cruel Shaidey brought his might upon him,

And the hero withstood through all.

 

The light could not be diminished,

It burnt Shaidey’s hand,

But Shaidey was not finished,

And pierced him with his brand,

The battle raged on,

With Shaidey on the upper hand.

 

Just as the young one,

Was about to fall,

His hope would not be undone,

He gathered the last strength he had to call,

And cast down Shaidey.

 

Then he vanished,

As swiftly as he had come,

Yet he gave the people their wish,

To the rumor of some,

He gave them his name,

The name of Mallion.