Website And All Content Copyright © Leoma Retan 2013.

The Calling.
by Leoma Retan
10 Aug 2013

Lights burning, platforms floating in air,
Magic waiting, sourced in land so fair,
Power calls power, high in the tower,
Greatness desiring, they should beware.

Science and magic, they would combine,
Sorcerors, Engineers, now define,
Hybrid tech machines, filling all their dreams,
Hidden in labs, their plans now refine.

Deep in the forest, in hidden Glade,
Keeper feels danger, there in the shade,
She watches magic, so nothing tragic,
Upsets the smooth flow, causes life's fade.

Now she feels forces, dwindling to nought,
Tech stealing magic, that is her thought.
She must find the source, plot a better course,
Before it's too late, thief must be caught.

Forces grow stronger, builders await,
Their greatest success, not knowing fate,
Will hide the world past, all futures recast,
They cannot stop now. It is too late.

Machine connecting, magic flowing,
Combine as one, the power growing,
Too fast to sustain, cannot stand the strain,
Energy builds, no sign of slowing.

Keeper feels magic, it is waning,
Tries to stop the forces from draining,
Cut the Glade source flow, she can feel it slow,
Can't let herself rest, she is gaining.

Fight for the magic, world starts to crack,
Tech now drawing, Keeper holding back,
Thunder and lightning, fissures frightening,
Now it is finished, world has gone black.

Deep in the night, the Keeper awakes,
Small magic left, a deep breath she takes,
To fan the dim flames, she says all the names,
Of each thing that lived, great magic makes.

World is shattered, but now in the morn,
The living awake, to world so torn.
They look all around, see what may be found,
Isles created, Fyrnlosing born.