deep crimson stallion of Mirthern...
the fortress beside Lithlin sea...
the place of my birth and the rites of war...
the mystic hand of a princess,
a touch that healed the unwounded...
the firm embrace of Paris,
such trouble in her soul,
"come run away with me!"
i failed her, and so she perished..

(c) Erik Minas-Gilkes 2009