A clearing they did enter slow, though haste was of the days found deed Beyond the waters chanting flow of driftwood doors and ancient ****
There stood a man in beard of white, not startled as they entered sure His staff possessed a jeweled light, a robe of crimson fabric bore
Through misted haze of chanted sway they spoke for it was their command He turned to stare with eyes of gray and silence them with lifted hand
“You words are known before you speak of beauty taken to the gate A potion, magic, which you seek to wish on hope and not too late”
Upon the floor a contoured ring in seashell essence powered stain A cauldron empty smokless sting it burned their eyes, their skin the same
“Fear not for this shall be the path, now step within this circled mark” As they obeyed, with wave of staff and suddenly their world was dark
With woven lines of vibrant glare, a feeling ‘pon their chests fell tight Now breathless as their thoughts did share when sure of foot they stood in light
As focus came their worried eyes, their castle stood as if a dream The shaman spoke, past sorrowed cries *“Now take me promptly to your queen”
I don't know why I am posting this, but what the hell.