by Elven Venom


Since the space originated,
elements, colliding, merging,
ignited and incinerated,
from one to other form converging,

a primal world was born. Combustion,
blazing brilliantly with heat;
burning clouds from burst reaction,
where no mortals laid their feet.

A fundamental plane of fire –
waves of orange, yellow, reds,
the mind and soul it could inspire,
to dive into the magic threads.

The native folk of this old realm –
creatures you shouldn’t mess with,
for long the shadows tried to seal ’em,
the fire elementals and the iftit.

Much is there than what is known,
but I believe that if they speak,
those residents would rage and moan,
because it’s vengeance that they seek.


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