[The Barrow-Wight]

The Barrow-Wight paced nervously back and forth in the innermost chamber of the barrow, his emaciated brow furrowed deeply, his remaing arm fidgeting aimlessly. The sword it clutched made an almost musical tinkling as it scraped the cold stone floor.

On his head was a golden and bejeweled crown, necklaces of great worth hung from his skeletal neck, and a long white robe, freshly stolen from a nearby tomb, covered his ancient, rustless armor. All was surrounded by a pale, fell light, as of moonlight filtered through marsh mist.

He began to mutter quietly to himself:

Cold be hand and heart and stone
and cold be forums when alone,
but smiling guise and secret lies
will bring them in, both young and wise

The Barrow-Wight's voice began to rise and fall, echoing strangely from the chamber walls.

Warm be heart and quick be mind
that discuss much until they find
they're trapped inside and though they strive
they'll not escape this tomb alive.

His sword raised high as the song became a piercing shriek.

Now come they faster, running hearty
thinking they attend a party
drinking ale, they soon turn pale
swooning as their senses fail

The song again became quiet and turned to a sad lamentation.

Laid out upon my barrow floor
the forum folk I've waited for
to join my sleep, I think I'll keep...
this story sure is getting deep

So now lay they all deep in dreams
no longer living, so it seems
but watch their eyes, all gals and guys
spring up and shout a huge SURPRISE!!!!!!"

Happy Birthday Barrow-Downs

It's been a great two years!

[ May 20, 2002: Message edited by: The Barrow-Wight ]