Such a lust cannot be culled with transparency,
It is the Veiled forest of which you seek.
She offers no such luxuries as clarity,
Beware; she'll not undress for the weak.
Venture to the alluring Isle of Kreyshar,
Inhale the sweetly perfumed embrace.
Linger 'til the twilight smothers the lone, blazing star,
Reach the summit; she'll flash her hypnotizing face.
Dare to comb gently through the thicket's efflorescent wings,
Allow fascination to fondly unbind your expression
as you're entranced whilst the spectral, spellbound mockingbird sings
a moonlit melody that deepens your blood in connection.
Her song echoes past the hushed petals,
Too beauteous to wait whilst words untwist.
A tint of melancholy to sting like patient nettles,
Pursue for the emotions that she kissed.
Upon a citadel of frozen elven, she perches,
A wild glint of hunger flows to her abyssal, scarlet eyes.
Silently, she beckons you from the birches
until her temple walls weaken and rupture; with a cry.
Cradle her closely, fix your gaze as she renews,
What lay beneath you; a bewildered Firehawk elf.
Fragile ivory dances on her skin in every hue,
Puddles of bruised, blackened azure dull her health.
Fate has graciously woven your pure hearts together,
and lifted the feathered curse that plagued Elsiara.
Truth seeped into the last of the Firehawks,
A torturing poison.
Her vision ruefully pierced the colourless clan,
encased in a crystallized crypt.
Now she sings the moonlit melody every full moon,
Ancestral spirits whisper wildly in harmony.
The vines, the blossoms, the critters mirror the tune,
With unfading ache; the Veiled forest guards the ceremony.
At long last,
you have revealed your rightful haven.