You see how the beautiful Drow is coming
In all her glory;
With her ruby eyes like oceans
With her white hair as clear snow
With her dark skin like promise of the night

Querrice Shavr'rath
After the fierce battle
Still beautiful
But still confused

Imagine the tall surface elf
In all her pity;
With peace in her soul
With adoration in her heart
With hands which never touched the sword

That was the person
That fiery Querrice have seen
When she looked in the mirror
When she looked in her mind

That was a very difficult battle
The children of warriors will talk about
it many times, after thousand years will pass
The battle of victory
But Querrice lost her memories
Lost her sight
She isn't Drow anymore, she must suffer
on surface as common surface elf

She was wandering trought forrest
Where she killed so many of creatures
Where she captured so many of victims
When a forrest elf notices her and screamed in panic:
"Drow"!

Drow? Where? That is terrible!
Where to hide! Where to run!
But the elf was looking at her!
"Querrice Shavr'rath, our Nemesis"!

The elf ran up with greatly panic
And left Querrice with a strange feeling
Of something undone
Of something misfitted
Of something that is so near
and so far at the same time

***

The beautiful Drow is coming
In all her glory;
With her ruby eyes like oceans
With her white hair as clear snow
With her dark skin like promise of night...

...And with a little insane glee at her face