Under the Green Desk Lamp…

The seven sons challenged their fate,

For the three jewels of light.

And mired in and endless fight,

Were twisted by their hate.

Three fell in the forest caves,

To the Elven King most fair.

And laying kinship bloody bare,

Two died beside the waves.

But two did find and finally hold,

The treasures they had earned.

Unclean indeed, their hands were burned,

As it had been foretold.

One jewel was cast into the sea,

One to the fiery core.

The last was set on high to soar,

A sign that hope should be.

Yet in the end all that was done,

Of good or ill intent.

Has proven but an instrument,

In service of the One.

-Brad OH Inc.