The archer raised his mighty bow,

And nocked his arrow, with unearthly glow.
With great speed he let it fly,
An explosion of light filled the sky.

Far below upon the field,
Where back and forth men clashed and reeled.

The battle raged with no end in sight,
The young and old fought for right.

The arrow fell its target found,

Trailing light as it sought the ground.
As it neared it lit the plain,
One among thousands, falling like rain.

The shafts pierced breasts of purest hearts,
Felling the best, those evil glowing darts.

Men went to the final darkness never again to rise,
None had expected Death in this guise.

The battles lost, the heroes gone.

This once great empire has its last dawn.
Upon those mounds where pure men died,
Tiny saplings growing, were spied

In short order those sprouts grew tall,
Glowing blue they reigned over all.

From their tendrils mighty power spread,
Which could be used for Good or Dread.