When did the wind brush gently across our cheeks?
When did the rain bounce playfully off our skin?
When did the sunlight shine dazzlingly into our eyes?
When did the grass waver blissfully against our feet?
 
We once were elves, slaves of the light,
Chosen as eternal protectors of the weak.
Blinded by the colors of rainbows,
Deafened by the music of orchestras,
We wandered hopelessly without reason.
 
Against God's wishes we unburdened our shoulders,
And bowed towards the shadows of death.
In darkness we reign, in darkness we grow;
In darkness we learn the tolerence for vengeance. Slow
Were our steps, wearied through time,
With harmonized steps we marched towards the frozen fire.  
 
Centuries have passed, no longer are we alone:
The spiders, demons, all once banished from light.
Like thoughts, banners, and stones,
We drift back and forth through the eternity of time.
Always hoping; always marching;
For we are drows, the warriors of might.

By Linzhou Fang.