From the weavings of smoke in the absence of light
In the chill of the forest's most harrowing night
There emerged from the fog, like an arrow of white
Just the hint of an elf that was soon out of sight
But before the young elf disappeared in the dark
Between slivers of hair that were black as a lark
I could see that his face was indelibly stark
And his eyes, they were stained like the forest's own bark
And I swear that those eyes, they were locked on my own
In a glimpse that was stabbing, as hard as a stone
I was heavy with guilt, and I felt as a crone
As I searched for the things I could do to atone
For I paid from my soul for that peek, I am sure
Human eyes were not meant to see something so pure
Now I'm bound to a burden I'll always endure
And I'm lashed with a pain that I never will cure.
copyright © 2008 Sean Shannon