When guilt burst forth, at Menden's door We could not speak, we did not know The toll the rage of men might seek Through witless priests and burning snow
That Sword was forged in Elwen's fyre With magic signs embossed in vain The power of steam in crooked lines To cleave the brows in villainous twain
Thus Emnoch came to shield the world A hero's hero of countless girth The ***** of shame that numbered zero A blade arrived to state his worth
This dismal feast of brutal love Will never sate a horse's tune Senescence and honor entwined in fate He ever swells that liquid boon
Asunder sliced was Denzhen Yeep Just as Vile Ben wast slain The Witches Five broke on the Pile A magic Pentagon of pain
But do not braise the glance of morn' We cannot love what has not hair Embrace the stench of Emnoch's glove His tale is there for you to share