Of mail and anguish,
This land was wrought,
Of blood and vengeance,
The seeker sought,
His blade dug deep,
And fed the earth,
With the life's blood,
Of the seven who fought,
We loved the way he fought,
We sang of his valor,
Deep into the long night,
Long winded praise,
Of this he lacked naught.
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Song Of The Muses.
الشعرErato, ancient keeper of the golden arts . Whisper tales from eons lost. Remind us mortals of stories lost throughout the ages ,remembered only by you,the muses.
