Listen close to all i say
This is the end
This land is grey
The words we face
In death
In grace
They flow and find our souls
In kind
We are the dew that weep from them
The land
The dirt
The earth
The band
The bards of old will speak
Will sing
To us of ours
The bells will ring
The lords of night will mark
The world
The moon will spark
The dark
Unfurled
We’ll know what lies within
Without
We’ll find ourselves in debt
In doubt
The days will come
And pass
The time
The hour will rise
When we will rhyme
Again and then
We’ll know the tale
Of blood and bane
Of hell
Of hail
