daysinger

halls of stone to hands of fire
hold hallowed bone in blazing pyre
to hear the song of Walkers few
one sees the throng of those who knew
of deed and word yet fell away
for none could pull the weight of day

he called the wind he broke the sky
he spoke with voice of eagle high
in days of ash he carried rain
to quench the dry of crying pain
in violent night they found their king
yet in quiet fears to those they clang

in tempest fierce he found his end
to lies and fire they saw him bend
deceit its mark found in his chest
he fell to foe in dust he rest
those he trust they let him fall
to waves in rage off envy tall

in harvest gold through field white
comes tears of sky to blind the sight
of his people torn in toil and mire
with hand to earth and faces dire
they lost their light they lost their son
they lost the day his victory won

and yet his name found tale and song
of dangers deep and journey long
no child he bore yet hope he sired
in words of bard and strings of lyre
his ebb had passed his walk was done
yet glory he found admist the sun

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