Your cities will crumble;
Diseased covered glens
The strong falter, stumble
At the end times of men
Torn, gristle and grim
Soil poisoned, and twisted
An unnatural hymn
No reason be spoken
No hope found in sight
Goodness be broken
Love ripped, turned to blight
Rise bitter and heartless
Cold shivers, and cough
He approaches from darkness
The Laird of Dungorth
COMMENTS