The Elf

Her hair tied back, revealing
Long pointed ears.
Her clothes, tight fitting
Leather armour.
A scabbard attached to her waist
With a long sword.
A quiver set on her back and
Bow on her shoulder.
Her skin a purple hue that
Bordered on human.
Hair of ebony that runs down just
Touching her back.
Her weapons finely sharpened to
A bright glean.
She stands in the darkness of
Evening and dawn.
There are men in the forest, hiding
Further down stream.
She can hear them and smell them
On the fresh wind.
The sound of rushing water and
Animals surround.
She isolates the voices of the
Men she hunts.
The smells of dew and water is
Mixing in the air.
She takes away the purity that it
Provides her soul.
The touch of sunlight on the
Horizon ahead.
She turns towards the heat that
It can give.
She will kill them now, before they
All awaken.
Rushing trees as she passes by
On her hunt.
The cool air freezes her slowly as it
Seeps through.
The need for vengeance fresh on the
Rise of morning.
A glint of red in her eyesight
As she changes.
Then the black of forgetting all
That has occurred.
She opens her eyes to a day like
None other now.
She is free from the ties which
Bind her down.
Her vengeance has been sated as she
Disappears from view.
The trees continue to blow in the
Cool dawn breeze.
The only knowledge she was ever there
Is on the ground.
Blood surrounding men of evil intent and
Footsteps into the woods.

KC - 12/7/05