Oft hope is born when all is forlorn.
A song she heardOf cold that gathersLike winter's tongueAmong the shadowsIt rose like blacknessIn the skyThat on volcano'sVomit riseA Stone of ruinFrom burn to chillLike black moonriseHer voice fell still..
She touched something deep in his soul. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but the thought of hurting her made his chest ache.
Oh f***, not another elf.. Hugo Dyson