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| Poem http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=48&t=20131 |
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| Author: | mephiston, lord of death [ May 16th, 2009, 6:56 pm ] |
| Post subject: | Poem |
Broken blades, and broken helms, are washed by the breaking waves, Sounds of shattered dreams o'erwhelms the mind,is nought but a watery grave. Fire and stone, blood and thunder Hatred burns above the reek, Iron and fire cleaves all asunder, Crimes remembered as he speaks. Doom is dealt, and doom has won, The dice are rolled, and fate claims all, Into the halls are gathered the Firstborn, And the Strangers gather to their own hall. Hate and ruination, it all leads to an end, The reward? Death, with glory alone, It'll be thus forever, and doom never bends, So be prepared to taste bitter the glory you won. Wyrd bid ful aræd...... |
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