Alone I stand upon a cliff.
Eyes wandāring oāer the oceanās drift;
I ponder long on legends great,
Eāer ancient kingdoms met their fate.
For long ago, long since forgot,
Fair men of old faced fiery dart
āMid battle tumult, standing tall
Til war was won and dragon fall.
Alas! Their sons remembered not,
Nor cared to think of kindred lost,
But rather stopped their ears and said,
āFor mine alone Iāll win my breadā.
And so the ancient lands would fall,
Their children conquered, brought to thrall,
Deposed, destroyed, crushed into dust
By their own selfish, wanton lusts.
Thus, as I stand above the shore
And muse upon the tales of yore,
I fear for many of my kin
Who follow swift those former men.
Let not desire take hold your heart
For kingly gain or sovereignās part,
Lest blind you turn away your gaze
And meet demise eāer break of day.
For from such shade is little hope
To break aside that filthy yoke:
So guard your hearts and steel your souls
To overcome the mortal foe.
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