The Two united, in the past,
a Place to build, and spells to cast.
Their power grew, and took the land
and people round, as they had planned.

A key without a lock they made
of gold and gems, and overlaid
with spells, a tool for men to wield
to force the powers of Good to yield.

But armies came, their weapons bared,
while evil was yet unprepared.
The Hart was followed by the Crowns
and Moon, and people of the towns.

The Two were split; one got away
but She, when came the judgment day,
did break the key, and sent the rocks
to boxes four, with magic locks.

In doing so, She fell behind
as He escaped. She was confined
among Her own; her very lair
became her prison and despair.

The Place was ruined, torn apart
and left with chains around the heart
of evil power—but the key
was never found in the debris.

He knows not where She dwells today.
She set the minions' path, the way
To lift Her Temple high again
With tools of flesh, with mortal men.

Many now have gone to die
in water, flame, in earth, or sky.
They did not bear the key of old
that must be found—the orb of gold.

Beware, my friend, for you shall fall
unless you have the wherewithall
to find and search the boxes four
and then escape forevermore.

But with the key, you might succeed
in throwing down Her power and greed.
Destroy the key when you are done
and then rejoice, the battle won.