Raven Court
Shadow upon this blighted land,
Under the Raven's gaze.
Sun shining ever brightly,
Scorching with its rays.
…
Death, in time, it comes for all,
But often, far too soon.
Fleating are mornings of life,
Very quick do we pass noon.
…
So often, sons are called to war,
Against the keeper of the grave.
He's no better a realm lord,
We're torn between two knaves.
…
And either way, death takes us all,
Just a matter of time.
Such is the rhythem of our lives,
Ever straight, it does not wind.
…
Ever servants of the Raven,
We curse his rule, a blight.
The sun may shine over his realm,
But our lives are one of night.