The Song of Llothean

Here I lie
on the battefield
and my lifes blood is spilling.
In the dark.

Far from home
and so all alone
in tunnels deep and dimming
I found death.

I left hope
in the woodland realm
no journey can be undone.
Its so cold.

When she came
and spoke her sweet words
they were a taste of honey.
A sweet drink.

So I left
and I followed her
we all called her our mother.
We were fools.

We shed blood
and slew so many
but the age of gold eludes.
In the dark.

We are gone
kin to the spider
still the age of gold eludes
We are gone.