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Swift and Silent,
moving upon the ground,
sliding between trees,
blending, everything becoming one.
What is it that keeps you here?
The voices whisper,
their words echoing off the trees.
My heritage, answers a voice,
these words softer, quieter,
than those before them.
Heritage scoffs the first,
What heritage have you?
The heritage of my people,
from beyond the shores,
we first had come,
now to our homeland,
an ever-lasting jewel,
we return to ourselves,
leaving this disease behind.
I am heir of the grey elves.
These are my people.
Hope you liked... R&R!
~DDT