Post by Catherina Trovinsky on Jun 17, 2007 20:19:23 GMT -5
This is a poem I wrote for an English Assignment in 8th grade. My teacher didn't give me a good grade because I didn't follow the proper scheme for writing a ballad.
The Battle of Dragon’s Hold
Hark, my friends, come one and all
Whether you’re young or whether you’re old.
For I bring a tale from a time far gone:
The Great Battle of Dragon’s Hold
Now gather my friends, for my story begins
When dark Hroth’ran turned his evil sight
On the free lands of Avaline
He would claim it to strengthen his terrible might.
Avaline’s king desired no wars
The land had been lost, if not for his son
The crown prince Luke, with Sonia his sister,
And their friend, Selka the Dark-touched One.
Luke was determined to stop Hroth’ran’s force
Sonia the princess was likewise brave
And Selka’s courage was just as great
She would use her dark magic to stop Hroth’ran’s rave.
They sent out a call for an army of men,
Ones that could hold their own in a fight.
It mattered not if they knew sword or spear
For a peasant can be as brave as a knight.
The army gathered at Dragon’s Hold
A fortress with age of untold length
The warriors’ spirits remained full of nerve
Though the force was a mere two thousand in strength.
Hroth’ran’s horde came, ten thousand strong,
Consisting of every known demon and fiend
Mixed in with the men. They marched along
While overhead wingwyrms soared and kreened.
Luke was not one to wait for a fight
He led the charge at light’s first break
Flying the banner of Avaline
Against Haroth Kry’s black snake.
The two armies clashed and the bloodshed began
Luke boldly lashed out and took the first life.
The wingwyrms then struck, spewing poisonous fumes
Each claw a sword, each fang a knife.
They swooped to the ground, grabbing their quarry
Then flying up high and letting them go
Horses and men were dropped from the sky
To fall and crush their own allies below.
Abruptly a feral roar ripped through the air
And a violet dragon shot into the sky
Spitting black flames, toward the wyrms she flew
Letting their carcasses fall from up high.
Sonia stood watching, her lips drawn thin
She knew it was Selka, battling mid-air.
A great sorceress was Selka, that Sonia knew,
But just how long could Selka fare?
Selka fought boldly, seeing nothing else
Yet the dragon-form was sapping her strength
Till shortly she found her magic was gone
She lost dragon-form and fell a great length.
The Avaleans cried out in anguish
The wingwyrms let out a kreening cheer
Then something appeared far away in the sky
And, as warriors stared, it began to draw near.
Its wings were far broader than wingwyrms’ span
Its length made the Selka-dragon look small
It soared very close to the dropping sorceress
Then dove down under her and broke her fall.
An Avalean soldier screamed “wingwyrm!”
But Sonia knew what it only could be
She pointed and cried to the army “wyvern!”
For a wyvern it was, as green as the sea.
The first of the wingwyrms attempted to turn
But the wyvern caught it before it had fled
Up came the wyvern’s bladed tail
Down fell the wingwyrm, lacking a head.
Three wingwyrms flew at the wyvern at once
Their jaws all drooling venomous spit.
The first two were shredded by lethal claws,
The wyvern caught the third’s spine and bit.
With four wyrms dead the others grew fearful
The wyvern overcame three at once with ease
Before the wyrms could decide what to do
Another one felt the wyvern’s jaws squeeze.
With five wyrms down, the others fled
So the wyvern focused on Hroth’ran’s horde.
But first it flew low and laid Selka down
Then it turned to the enemy and fiercely roared.
In a panic the demons shot at the new threat
But arrows just bounced off the armored scales
Men fell to its jaws, fiends to the claws
Any left over were prey of the tail’s.
The tide had turned; the enemy fled
But Avalean losses were heavy
Out of two thousand who’d gone out to fight
All that remained were five hundred and twenty.
Selka, the sorceress, woke three days later,
Her power, she found, had been fully restored.
She promptly demanded to hear of the battle.
Sonia laughed and said, “We defeated the horde.”
Selka asked, “What happened while I was falling?”
“The wyvern Malachite came for you.”
Selka got up and went outside to find him.
She had some serious thanking to do.
And that, my friends, nears the end of this story.
Though I have a little bit more now to say.
Malachite’s homecoming sparked a great flow
Of returning magical creatures that day.
The war went on, Avaline against Hroth’ran.
The ultimate battle was a long bitter fight.
But that, my dear friends, is another brave tale --
I have kept you already too long tonight.
The Battle of Dragon’s Hold
Hark, my friends, come one and all
Whether you’re young or whether you’re old.
For I bring a tale from a time far gone:
The Great Battle of Dragon’s Hold
Now gather my friends, for my story begins
When dark Hroth’ran turned his evil sight
On the free lands of Avaline
He would claim it to strengthen his terrible might.
Avaline’s king desired no wars
The land had been lost, if not for his son
The crown prince Luke, with Sonia his sister,
And their friend, Selka the Dark-touched One.
Luke was determined to stop Hroth’ran’s force
Sonia the princess was likewise brave
And Selka’s courage was just as great
She would use her dark magic to stop Hroth’ran’s rave.
They sent out a call for an army of men,
Ones that could hold their own in a fight.
It mattered not if they knew sword or spear
For a peasant can be as brave as a knight.
The army gathered at Dragon’s Hold
A fortress with age of untold length
The warriors’ spirits remained full of nerve
Though the force was a mere two thousand in strength.
Hroth’ran’s horde came, ten thousand strong,
Consisting of every known demon and fiend
Mixed in with the men. They marched along
While overhead wingwyrms soared and kreened.
Luke was not one to wait for a fight
He led the charge at light’s first break
Flying the banner of Avaline
Against Haroth Kry’s black snake.
The two armies clashed and the bloodshed began
Luke boldly lashed out and took the first life.
The wingwyrms then struck, spewing poisonous fumes
Each claw a sword, each fang a knife.
They swooped to the ground, grabbing their quarry
Then flying up high and letting them go
Horses and men were dropped from the sky
To fall and crush their own allies below.
Abruptly a feral roar ripped through the air
And a violet dragon shot into the sky
Spitting black flames, toward the wyrms she flew
Letting their carcasses fall from up high.
Sonia stood watching, her lips drawn thin
She knew it was Selka, battling mid-air.
A great sorceress was Selka, that Sonia knew,
But just how long could Selka fare?
Selka fought boldly, seeing nothing else
Yet the dragon-form was sapping her strength
Till shortly she found her magic was gone
She lost dragon-form and fell a great length.
The Avaleans cried out in anguish
The wingwyrms let out a kreening cheer
Then something appeared far away in the sky
And, as warriors stared, it began to draw near.
Its wings were far broader than wingwyrms’ span
Its length made the Selka-dragon look small
It soared very close to the dropping sorceress
Then dove down under her and broke her fall.
An Avalean soldier screamed “wingwyrm!”
But Sonia knew what it only could be
She pointed and cried to the army “wyvern!”
For a wyvern it was, as green as the sea.
The first of the wingwyrms attempted to turn
But the wyvern caught it before it had fled
Up came the wyvern’s bladed tail
Down fell the wingwyrm, lacking a head.
Three wingwyrms flew at the wyvern at once
Their jaws all drooling venomous spit.
The first two were shredded by lethal claws,
The wyvern caught the third’s spine and bit.
With four wyrms dead the others grew fearful
The wyvern overcame three at once with ease
Before the wyrms could decide what to do
Another one felt the wyvern’s jaws squeeze.
With five wyrms down, the others fled
So the wyvern focused on Hroth’ran’s horde.
But first it flew low and laid Selka down
Then it turned to the enemy and fiercely roared.
In a panic the demons shot at the new threat
But arrows just bounced off the armored scales
Men fell to its jaws, fiends to the claws
Any left over were prey of the tail’s.
The tide had turned; the enemy fled
But Avalean losses were heavy
Out of two thousand who’d gone out to fight
All that remained were five hundred and twenty.
Selka, the sorceress, woke three days later,
Her power, she found, had been fully restored.
She promptly demanded to hear of the battle.
Sonia laughed and said, “We defeated the horde.”
Selka asked, “What happened while I was falling?”
“The wyvern Malachite came for you.”
Selka got up and went outside to find him.
She had some serious thanking to do.
And that, my friends, nears the end of this story.
Though I have a little bit more now to say.
Malachite’s homecoming sparked a great flow
Of returning magical creatures that day.
The war went on, Avaline against Hroth’ran.
The ultimate battle was a long bitter fight.
But that, my dear friends, is another brave tale --
I have kept you already too long tonight.
Thanks Lluvia!
