Through Elvish fire tales are told,
of mighty mages and heroes bold.
As fire dances in the air,
a tale is told about a king and his heir.
About a dragon and his treasure,
and of a potions long lost measure.
A potion made by a wizard wise,
made of serpents fangs and fishes eyes.
The fire is sizzling and is hot,as it tells of a witches pot,
a pot made of crumbling bones,filled with lost souls and dying moans.
The fires warmth tells yet another story,of a giant and his feared roaring,
and of a hero Gallin by name,who got his eternal fame,
by swimming through a castles moat,and stabbing the giant through his throat.
The fire's shape is able to morph,creating an image of an angry dwarf,
a dwarf mad at his entire race,a dwarf mad at all,but his mace.
The smoke above hides yet another tale,
of an elvish princess and a dragon male,
and how she got his trust through a barrel of ale,
soothing his fangs and his fire,soothing his temper,so grim and dire.
Remeber,to see the fire Elves make at a mere whim,
you must only close your eyes...and dream...