Working on my metre

[humility]

Yeah no matter what I did I couldn't quite hear the metre. I hadn't intended on posting anything until I could identify meter as something other than 'nice earworm quality' but someone PMed me and told me to post anyway. Unless Cadence is something different from metre. In which case I have no idea. But I plan to work on one thing at a time anyway. My rough rough draft before I tried cleaning it up and collapsing it was

Midnight Serpent sought to corrupt offspring
of a passed god no longer here, to forge
his own race with a power granted by
Avandra the Maiden of Change. Alas
the Spider Queen did whisper into his ear
secrets stolen from destiny about
many strong heroes rising one by one.
These did he seek to kill when they were babes,
But the machinations of fate are not
so thwarted easily and thus heroes sprung
just to protect the destined champions.
Generations passed, heroes came and went,
every attempt by the midnight serpent
to craft his own race failed. Finally in
frustration he sought out the counsel of
the old mother of witches. There he learned
a forbidden secret to thwarting fate.
Within the fairy land, destiny holds
little power and bonds between the fey
and its natural counterpart are strong
as anything else forged at creation.
One such bond exists between the wee folk
and mortal man, an inextricable link.
A human child's first cries are always
echoed by a wee pixie's first laughter.
And this cause and effect can be twisted
to work the other way. Thus the midnight
serpent did create a new poison, brewed
from tears of grieving parents and the dreams
of the slumbering dead. Within weeks of
every conception which would spring destined
heroes, The Master of Poisons sought out
and found the flower buds in which rested the
young pixies who waited for new life's cry
that would awaken their laughter and joy.
But nine never bloomed, nine died in the womb.
And the serpents curse upon man took root
and soft flesh was hardened unto scale. The nine
poisoned pixie buds were made a wreath and
given to the mother of witches as
a gift of gratitude. Grieved and wracked by
guilt at the fate she allowed to befall
man, the maiden of change sought to repent
in at least one small way.Thus Avandra
sought the mother of witches. None know what
price was paid, but she held the Pixie Wreath
in her hand as she left, placing it in
one of her temples until the day she
could rescue them from their poisoned slumber.

Here I was just trying to hit 10 syllables a line while trying to listen for metre. But the result was intolerably terrible. So I decided to focus on metre completely and not worry about how many syllables I get per line.