Regale me with chronicles unheard and stories undreamt, of an age before time when the mountains were still young and the skies yet glittered with the vast tapestry of a cosmos now adrift to the farthest aeons.
Reveal unto me, O wicked and benevolent host, a vision of ancient seas that crash upon antideluvian shores awash in the unfathomable ivory twilight of twin moons that dance in ominous portent.
Tell me of realms beyond the immemorial horizon, of lands unmapped and of wilderness uncharted, so that we might once again glimpse upon the rolling oaken wilds and shining silver kingdoms of that so very distant yore.
Tell me a tale of wicked magics and astonishing adventure where perilous things of myth and legend abound.
Tell me this tale so that I may know the hope and horror, the pain and love, of a time and of a people whose names were, until now, long lost to the dustiest tomes of archaic lore, and feel as though we were there in that moment with those forever gone souls.
Tell me a tale, O voice in the dark, so I may better understand my place in this wicked, inscrutable world that is mine own.

The above is some short prose/poetry for my fantasy heart-breaker.