Lamentation of the Bonelords
How lonely the world has gone,
once so full of our kind.
Ours was the wisdom and power,
now its the dullness of mind.
The Elders mourn and sing our songs,
as we gather in the halls.
There is no joy to comfort the soul,
not even all our thralls.
We can not unite and gather the tribes,
and our pain won’t ever abate;
For all the treasures are lost to us,
those which focused our hate.
We are despised, we are destitute,
and this is why I weep.
Return whence you came, forget you were here,
and leave us alone in the deep.
But if anything, take heed and remember,
our words to you on this day.
All things will come to an end,
but when is solely for you to say.
Wayfarer of the Guardian Nomads
