The young elven prince
in the garden
eyes closed and silent
beautiful even when dead.

The well of whispers
filled with stones and tears
tracks in the sand
leading away into the desert

A fairy with glowing wings
painted on the broken window
in the small church building
sitting lonely in a valley

Waiting for the dawn
a new century even
waiting for faith
a new age of mankind

Without the old ones
without the dragons
without the magic
without the war

I shall not tell you
how they all died
I shall tell you
how they lived.

Take my hand
I’ll be your guide
I’ll show you
where you came from

Remember it well
for the time
when you’ll be
the last of your kind.