"The Lady of Alstar" by Amanda J. Hoffman

The Lady of Alstar



Sitting atop a mountain high

Writing a song or two,

She began to dance and sigh.

Finding that flowers were few,

She found herself asking why…



Asking questions of Mother Earth

Wondering why love is a chore.

Dancing in gaiety and mirth,

Deciding that life is merely a bore

And that it is pointless even at birth.



The Lady of Alstar Vylanceum Silver

Sits atop the mountain awaiting her lord.

In her presence, even the wind shivers

And the mountain lions no longer roar.

The Lady could make the bravest of knights quiver.



Her eyes were as bright as an emerald gem,

Staring inquisitively into the sky's creamy clouds.

Her voice worthy of that of a requiem,

Capable of lifting spells and shrouds,

Yet loving enough to go out on a whim.



The Lady's lord and love,

Was that of a valiant man.

And his love for her was that of a dove,

Innocence was at her command

As was his affection and love.



She once had desperately wished to be

In the company of such a knight.

For his heart had set her free,

And his arms had held her tight

Whilst she dreamed of possibilities.



The Knight of the Silver Rose

Was forever burned into her heart.

Alstar allowed her heart to compose,

And the twin souls to ne'er part

Yet all good things must come to a close…



Her lord loved her dearly,

When she was forever near.

That was, until her life ended severely

T'was out of spite, not revere…

Alstar saw it all through his jaden eyes, sincere.



He had sworn vengeance for his Lady lost,

Those traitors to the crown and Silver Rose…

Alstar condemned them perpetually and at any cost.
He refused to rest his Seraphim wings; not one repose,

This poor knight's heart yet to mended… for now, t'was tossed.



To this day, her death like a crystal shard,

Alstar could her sad and crying lament.

He no longer felt any love and was barred

From feeling anything but repent

For his lost love… her soul and body forever marred.



Now it is Alstar that sits atop the mountain high,

But he doesn't dream nor does he sing.

He's merely there to think or sigh

Remembering a forgotten world and king,

Longing for his lady… by and by.