She comes with a body. Lithe, plain.
Two things Warchief said no, don't chew.
Don't disgrace the Orc way.
If you transgress it better be just to
rip off her arms. You're in my palm.
(I'm in whose palm?)
He comes with a presence. Foreign.
Alien of the Karwa Wastes.
Don't you pass this chance on.
You recognize, don't you, when
better comes along? You're in my palm.
(I'm in whose palm?)
Douse the candles in the war hall
for me my lines arrested caught
in the splinters of dry throat
won't reach the thunderous cry
you repress, to release me.