Lament of the Guardian
The Lament of the Guardian, a poem supposedly sung by the fabled warrior and first King of the Engelian Empire
Frigid winds embrace me, whispers in the dark
Beneath the vast expanse of night and in this journey we embark
Gazing upward, for the stars weave tales so grand.
In the quiet of the frozen land, together we stand
Oh, the sky unfolds its tapestry, a celestial ballet,
A dance of constellations in the cold's embrace, they sway,
In the silence of winter's night, a story to be told.
The northern lights, a spectral dance, in hues of emerald and blue,
Reflecting in my weary eyes, tales of ancient, timeless hue.
Amidst the forgotten plains, where the frosty breath does sigh,
I hear the echoes of our ancestors songs
Oh, the sky unfolds its tapestry, a celestial ballet,
A dance of constellations in the cold's embrace, they sway,
In the silence of winter's night, a story to be told.
O' Father, O' Lord, King of Kings hear our voices
Echoes in the shimmering stars, cries thrown to the skies
Through storms and bitter winds
Tonight my march begins
In the quiet of the night, on cold plains where shadows play,
I sing the song, a ballad that won't sway.
Oh, the sky unfolds its tapestry, a celestial ballet,
A dance of constellations in the cold's embrace, they sway,
In the silence of winter's night, a story to be told.
