Rise the ancients,
The souls of old,
To mend the stories,
Of bright and bold.
Men born impure,
Traitors by heart,
Betraying a brotherhood,
Such a small start.
The dead are trusted,
Endowed with true tales,
Those who severed bonds,
When fear prevails.
Pure men become evil,
In the face of strife,
Selling out loved ones,
To buy back their life.
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