At the foot of Blue Mountain
At the foot of Blue Mountain
A small boat washed ashore
Aboard a faceless figure
Awoke from timeless bore
Stood up and walked to the wall
Of blue rock, silently
Watched the dead leaves slowly fall
Under the giant tree
“It can’t be dying, can it?”
A small voice spoke up
The figure glanced from her hood
Down to where an elf stood
“Well, if you have an idea
Do go on, tell away!
But whatever we do now
Can it bring luck our way?
Will any cure work for sure?
Can this be even healed?
Amongst everything we try
Isn’t it all a lie?
It’s dying now, as you know
And then we all shall die
Is it all worth the trouble?
Might as well try to fly.”
“I used to fly!” said the elf
“Not now, but I used to.
Now my wings are too weak, but...
If I could, so could you!”
For a moment silence reigned;
The little elf reached up
To tug down the hood, to see...
But it pulled back slowly
“Don’t!” said the figure quickly
“There’s nothing there to see!
I’m just a faceless figure
That’s all I’ll ever be
I have nothing to live for
And no home anchors me
All I do is sail, see:
There’s nothing but the sea
Await the day when maybe
You’ll be as free as me.”
And she left for good the elf
Guarding her giant tree.
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