A mile below the prosperous city of Prantika
is the dwarf dug cavern of Apollyon
it has almost been completely forgotten about
as there is no record in their history books
In this great hall stands an 7056 strong army of fighters
the lost 10 foot tall sapphire warriors of legend
each carrying a fiery amber long sword
still burning fiercely in the darkness
On a carved white marble throne set facing them
sits their dark elf creator Alvah
a fallen wizard of terrible power and ambition
while he sleeps the army will remain dormant
they will only wake if he should rise again
The only living visitor is the pale goblin Norris
who seeks only to serve his unmoving and oblivious master
trimming and combing his long black hair and beard
brushing the dust off his faded grey robe
It is said that after 1000 Alvah will finally wake up
and his forces will destroy the armies of the world
already the time is almost upon the unsuspecting nations
as his long still fingers are starting to twitch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem