The ashes lie to all who pass these lands
They say there are no secrets left to keep,
But I have stolen souls with thieving hands
That through these ashes softly whisper, weep

For I have seen these lands when they were new
They brimmed with joy, and laughter graced each dawn
I blessed the windblown fields with fiery hues
‘Til one day, mirth and harvests, there were none

They came in, blades of bronze and burning flames,
So jealous of these lands’ abundant gold
Their king conquered the land under false claims,
And crushed its people in his iron hold

So now I wait, and silently mourn
And hope for these great lands to be reborn