Epoch

All light lost to the Evertween
Caught in shadowy semblances of reason
Raise the earthen dead toward heavens of dust
And taste the coming of the river-kind's songs

They call from the ages of lore and lam
When the might of man bled strong the river's edge
When the whet of steel and ascension of gods
Would grace the lips of the victorious fallen

Heroes to forgotten kings and vanished halls
Warriors of tale and song aplenty untold
Cloven from the spirit of man in haste
To hearken the coming of darkened skies

Lay thine brothers back to their rest
The penitent vanguard who now godless roam
The valley of shrouds and unspoken horrors
Hells unleashed upon innocent shores

But gaze upon him to the eye
As the mercy stroke devours dead flesh and bone
Lest the curse of the Evertween arouse
And reap thine gifts justly given