Long long ago on the coast of the green bay,
two kingdoms of rich heritage lay.
One of the rulers strong and brave,
for adventure they ever did crave.
Barahin was their reign to stay,
never out of red meat nor dry hay.
Their fields gleam in sun and in wind wave,
never borrowed a leaf to eat neither did they save.
On the shore that wasn't theirs,
was the kingdom of thousand stairs.
Flowers bloomed under the warm sun,
and the breezes danced in fun.
Long and dark were their maidens' hairs,
and naught to be seen were any lairs.
The account of wars they had was none,
to lands of Lorethin never did any knights run.
The prince of Barahin was sixteen,
his skill was unparalleled his eyes ever keen.
Durag had a fantasy to chase,
and his feet had the boon to pace.
He set out on a winter morning when the sky was clean,
to reach out to the lands unheard of and unseen.
He wandered in the vines of maize,
and into the joyous gayful place.
On a Wednesday when the dawn was rose,
were chilling winds but none were froze,
princess Serah set out with her pretty maids,
to secluded greens where never set raids.
She left the company in quest of a purple rose,
and towards Durag their footsteps close.
Clad in his chequered purple plaids,
she plucked what suited her thick long braids.
Thus met Durag and Serah in the East,
where was never known what is a beast.
They spoke long and bloomed affection,
not lust but a pure angel's resurrection.
And such a friendship bloomed into a feast,
that knew no wine nor bread nor yeast.
The night fell as a confection,
a day they penned into perfection.
But no sugar lasts in a kitchen of ants,
and theirs was not blessed nor thrown in grants.
Snaketongue soon knew what was in the woods,
that made the prince wander in his hoods,
he penned in malign ink the tale of lants,
and hissed to the king in silent rants.
The king endowed in him a royal trust,
and let it roast to ease the crust.
He cursed what was heavenly friendship,
and on his son laid a prisoner's whip.
Poor Durag suffered for a king ever must,
and let his feelings for her rust.
Sehar waited in the name of azure,
into an illness that none knew to cure.
Rotting in the shining white bed for long,
she waited for him and his welcome song.
But, her depression for death did lure,
and she met fate long before tenure.
And did Durag learn after months centuries long,
and his head was tempted to wrong.
The sword pierced through his red blood,
as it flushed and Durag did flood.
They met in heaven and lived forever well,
but not in the land where words were fell.
But from the earth had those two souls fled,
And into farther tombs were they led.
In the counsel of a poisonous snake,
a friendship withered for kingdom's sake,
a land where lives were put to stake,
and since then, never such did the God make.
two kingdoms of rich heritage lay.
One of the rulers strong and brave,
for adventure they ever did crave.
Barahin was their reign to stay,
never out of red meat nor dry hay.
Their fields gleam in sun and in wind wave,
never borrowed a leaf to eat neither did they save.
On the shore that wasn't theirs,
was the kingdom of thousand stairs.
Flowers bloomed under the warm sun,
and the breezes danced in fun.
Long and dark were their maidens' hairs,
and naught to be seen were any lairs.
The account of wars they had was none,
to lands of Lorethin never did any knights run.
The prince of Barahin was sixteen,
his skill was unparalleled his eyes ever keen.
Durag had a fantasy to chase,
and his feet had the boon to pace.
He set out on a winter morning when the sky was clean,
to reach out to the lands unheard of and unseen.
He wandered in the vines of maize,
and into the joyous gayful place.
On a Wednesday when the dawn was rose,
were chilling winds but none were froze,
princess Serah set out with her pretty maids,
to secluded greens where never set raids.
She left the company in quest of a purple rose,
and towards Durag their footsteps close.
Clad in his chequered purple plaids,
she plucked what suited her thick long braids.
Thus met Durag and Serah in the East,
where was never known what is a beast.
They spoke long and bloomed affection,
not lust but a pure angel's resurrection.
And such a friendship bloomed into a feast,
that knew no wine nor bread nor yeast.
The night fell as a confection,
a day they penned into perfection.
But no sugar lasts in a kitchen of ants,
and theirs was not blessed nor thrown in grants.
Snaketongue soon knew what was in the woods,
that made the prince wander in his hoods,
he penned in malign ink the tale of lants,
and hissed to the king in silent rants.
The king endowed in him a royal trust,
and let it roast to ease the crust.
He cursed what was heavenly friendship,
and on his son laid a prisoner's whip.
Poor Durag suffered for a king ever must,
and let his feelings for her rust.
Sehar waited in the name of azure,
into an illness that none knew to cure.
Rotting in the shining white bed for long,
she waited for him and his welcome song.
But, her depression for death did lure,
and she met fate long before tenure.
And did Durag learn after months centuries long,
and his head was tempted to wrong.
The sword pierced through his red blood,
as it flushed and Durag did flood.
They met in heaven and lived forever well,
but not in the land where words were fell.
But from the earth had those two souls fled,
And into farther tombs were they led.
In the counsel of a poisonous snake,
a friendship withered for kingdom's sake,
a land where lives were put to stake,
and since then, never such did the God make.