In a distant land there was a stone,

Deep, enticing, waiting alone.

Centuries it sat upon a tower there,

Overlooking an expanse of nowhere.

Centuries it lay,

Centuries it stayed,

Waiting.

A case of happenstance, and the land was found,

The eight adventurers kissing the ground.

The land offered all in its power,

But all they saw was the tower.

Centuries it stood,

Centuries above the woods,

Beckoning.

Seven stayed atop, but one chose not,

Rose up the tower, not knowing what she sought.

A view of endless beauty everywhere,

But she saw only the stone sitting there.

Centuries it grew,

Centuries tied true,

Seducing.

She touched the stone, lusting its beauty,

Not knowing her fatal immaturity.

The dark stone glowed,

The energy within flowed.

Suddenly it exploded,

Suddenly it unloaded,

Pouncing.

A ripple across endless space,

The land corrupted, turned to waste.

Light turned its back,

Darkness revoking its sacred pact.

Suddenly it striked,

Suddenly it betrayed,

Devouring.

Turned to stone,

All alone.

A husk of a heart,

The soul, depart.

In the shadows one could hear,

“Let there be Night.”

And there was night.