Hope’s Hollow Pt. 1

Behold a tale of whimsy and wonder –

Of a lady once pure who was forced down asunder.

Heed of her lessons, though they be hard to swallow;

Harken the tale of the Hag of Hope’s Hollow:


What a glorious spot!

Our young hero thought.

Such lush pretty leaves

To heal my heart’s grieves.

How the river she pours

As the air shines with spores;

Meander and nourish –

Here will I flourish!


With naught but an axe

And these clothes on my back,

Will I build up this haven;

Steel will, won’t be craven –

I will make this my home,

For my sins I’ll attone;

Though they haunt and they harm,

This place surely is charmed.


How little she knew of the horror to come;

That hate and dark magic forbid her be done.

The trials to face of earth and divine –

A spirit made dark from intentions benign.


This bountiful land will provide

Shelter in which I can hide.

Shelter from demons invading,

Pray those in my mind will start fading.

No shadows for them to lurk,

Only limitless work;

Only freedom unconstrained,

Ne’er again be restrained.


With each and every beam that I build,

Not once will I let my dear spirit be killed.

Bloody palms will they strive

To make dreams come alive.

I will stalk through these trees

As I hunt and I seize

And reclaim my power;

No more trampled, this flower.


Many a year spent our solitary soldier –

Diligent, defiant as she slowly grew older;

Her house she erected from timber and blood:

A fortress, a home, her castle in mud.



Part 2



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