Burning the insurgent,
you drown out the mist,
fog and thunder align
to form the masterful gist.....

Parts and crumbs gone with the wind,
far away you see not the glowing sun
but brimstone fires belching smoke,
and cries of pain and agony

They fill the night air,
that cool, cool air,
and they are heard, and they are torn
from the mouths of the Forsworn

Tales of bravery and magic,
Hoards of treasures gathered by the Known,
And yet nobody opens the cage of Tragic,
nobody questions the roots with the black snow....

Intrigue and treachery found as brothers,
yet dissipate evenly as if they were fathers
with a blood feud on their shoulders,
gratings between them, and on top the mighty Boulders

Afford to be neutral, and be drowned,
be pushed
be thrown
be slain,
it matters not,
what does, is......
Push, do not be pushed,
and you shall prevail,
redemption will not be your shield,
in this pit of darkness.