Rivendell

A Ballad of Sir Elios

Ethan Loi

His cloak, made with the finest velveteen, And sharpened blade in hand, His eyes shown with a plastic sheen, As they gazed across the land.

Sir Elios wondered what he would spy, As he sat on his equine steed. He heard in the wind, a pleading cry, And then quickly, he took heed.

And with his blade, he struck the foe, But to no effect, he found, And there his pride then turned to woe, As he ran to lands around.

He ran around through distant realms, And to mountain high, he’d flee. For safety, he slept among the elms, In the shadow of a tree.

Sir Elios was a dreamer, And lazy, that he was, An all but mental schemer, That’s what a dreamer does.