The Triumph of Rexa

A poem, The Song of Rexa, appears in abridged form as the prologue of Revealing Rexa. But the original poem was much longer, twice as long in fact. So I decided to take the leftover bits and make them into a new poem, to tell the rest of the story. I figure here is as good a place as any to post it for all to see. The complete poem, both halves together, is published in my poetry book, Beneath the Sea.


By Ella Stradling

Copyright 2012


The people came from a far off place,
To build a new life for a dying race.
They found a land that was free of care,
With space for all, and room to spare.

But time tells all, as it did for these,
And invasion brought them to their knees.
So Rexa planned to escape this hell,
And find his hope in a secret dell.

Around the neck of his beloved wife,
Who long ago had lost her life,
Sealed in a tomb in a sacred place,
Lay the chain that could save his race.

The dell was gone, but the tomb still stood,
‘Though in ruins, in a long-dead wood.
Behind a sealed door, the crypt had survived.
All was still safe when Rexa arrived.

The ancestral tomb held many a secret,
Including a book that would guide and protect
This man, in the use of the power he held,
Until he could safely these powers meld.

The language was old, and long forgotten.
The book was old, and in places rotten.
But Rexa persisted, and learned in time,
A language sweet, and attuned to rhyme.

At last, he rejoiced to find a cure
To his race’s terror, victory was sure.
Alone and unaided he planned his return,
To the holy city, the dark ones to burn.

The power of the elements, Rexa unleashed
On the evil, dark, destroyers of peace.
At last a conclusion he did reach,
As his power drove them onto the beach.

The people rejoiced at their leader’s success,
And with freedom returned, started afresh.
Rexa’s achievement with pendant and ring
Led the people to proclaim him King.

Rexa reigned in peace ‘till his death,
And at that time, with the last of his breath,
Passed on the secrets of his power
To his heiress, the fragile flower.

Now, his spirit, and that of his wife,
Are able to watch, and protect the life
Of their people, and warn in a magical way,
Of the presence of danger, without delay.

The descendants of Rexa are loved and respected
By all in the land, and are always protected.
They show great respect for the people they rule,
And live in the city that’s bright as a jewel.

Returning the land to its former glory,
They tried to forget the habits gory
Of the dark ones, the men of the night,
And lived their lives in a land of light.