(Please ignore horrible spelling errors.)

Just down the street there lives a old man.
He sits on his porch in his old rocking chair, and tells storys to the children.
They are not storys of the seven wars.
Nor of the great time of peace.
But rather of the time between the two.

They are not happy storys.
But there is a moral, deep within.
Don't mess with the way things are.
It brings only pain.

"I lived, long ago during the times of the great peace." He says.
"When the world was whole, and the people happy."
"I decided one day to take a walk into the woods near my home."
"For reasons I didn't know, but would later find out."

"I found an incredibly beutiful gem there."
"Just lying on the ground"
"I lifted it, finding it was of suprising weight."
"Under it, was a sheet of metal."

"I brushed the fall leaves from the metal."
"Seeing words engraved there."
"It was as if they were engraved on my very mind."

On the 6th day
Of the 6th mounth
The 6 years before the 7 wars
A man will find the stone, so clear
and find that more are very near
In his mind the stones will live
until the day they've no more to give

"These words I read aloud."
"A strange feeling came over me..."
"and the stone in my hand grew warm and began to glow."

"A chill came over me"
"Not from the cold fall air on my skin"
"But from the stones cold grip on my soul..."