Many moons ago,

I met a being you may know.

Clothed in an alien wizard robe,

His skin was blue and his hair was gold.

Although he spoke in words unknown,

Exciting images, I was shown.

Lightning, portals, wishing wells,

And a far away place called Isendel.

Proud elves live in that land,

Rare creatures indeed, both gross and grand.

Zyphite swords arm these elves, 

Yet they cannot save themselves.

Because an evil queen took the throne,

Incinerating the righteous to the bone.

Lucky few escape to the crystal caves,

Likely it will be their graves.

Alas, Isendel needs the brave.

Maybe you think I only dreamed,

Certainly, that is how it seemed.

Cept the blue being wouldn’t let me rest.

Leaving me alone less and less.

Until, one day, I was ready to begin,

Reaching out, I stepped through, right then.

Evil must not be allowed to win.