The Mist came down like the wolf on the fold,

And as it crawled around, eyes shone like emerald gold;

His slave cohorts they all became,

And the sheen of their spears was for Him to claim.

For Fear spread his wings on the blast,

And breathed in the face of all crystalfolk as it passed;

His forces were growing,

The North Aurora was blinding.

“March now, ever faster,

Our King is rising!”

Like the raven flies high when death is near,

That host with their banners at sunrise appeared:

It happened like a Running of the Leaves during Fall,

All towns who resisted lay withered and strown.

The Moon was up when the Mist appeared again,

Silently and secretly, the night colors were drained;

It poked around where soldiers slept,

Many things in their hearts they zealously kept!

No one was spared. Visiting even its Lord.

It wanted warmth memories to eat as a reward.

An era of prosperity…

Had it ever happen?

Minds became hollow and it swallowed their world.

Author's Note

Hello,
As I warned you this chapter wasn't going to be so good. I basically just adapted this famous poem to fit the story:
The Destruction of Sennacherib By Lord Byron (George Gordon)
So credits to Lord Byron for being the amazing poet he was.

I originally planned to do my own poem (and learn first how to write a poem in english) but at least I tried in the last part, right? Anyways, thanks for reading.