Army for Light
Copyright © 1998 Property of Deborah K. Fletcher. All rights reserved.
January 7, 1987
Child born of darkest night,
Yield thy evil, magic ways
To the ten who seek to right
The wrong that comes from ancient days.
Child, yield ye to the one
Who most of all from darkness brings
The hope and beauty of the sun,
With dreams wrought by the words he sings.
Child, yield ye next to darkness,
Born of light to stand with thee,
Rest thy faith upon his sharpness -
Twist ye not another tree!
Child, yield to royal blessing
From the western forest lands;
Lose the evil and be dressing
In robes of good from Lighted hands.
Child, place thy trust in cunning,
Tracker-trained and Eastland-wise;
Crush the evil to end the running -
Shed thy darkling, fey disguise.
Child, take the hope and healing
Which the races send in aid,
Else the races will be kneeling
To an ancient, evil shade.
Child, trust in strength of stone -
Loyalties which fail thee not -
Save the races, and thy home
From the evil, Ildatch plot.
Child know that size is lending
From the border legions, more
To stop the evil and be mending
The harm done by the walkers, Mord.
Child, know that youth is willing
To aid thee in thy quest of power
That, with evil, leads the killing
From the jungle-guarded tower.
Child, know ye well that skills
Born in times before the wars
With the aged quickly kill
His evil enemies, and yours.
Child, stealth is acting in ways
That thee never thought, nor dreamed;
Faith and power through the days -
The cat helps cleanse the poisoned stream.
Child, know at last that man,
Whom thou lovest from of old,
Also does all that he can
To save thy spirit, evilly sold.
Child, know thy living strengths,
And know as well the darker shade
Who ever goes to greatest lengths
To aid thy family, as Bremen bade.
Child, cleanse thee now of evil,
Which has owned thee in these days;
Goodness comes and grants thy fill
At quest's end, and the happier ways.
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