An Ancient Ballad
An Adunian bawwad fwom wong ago.
The twavewews aww wawk thwough the mist. The snow has settwed, but no one speaks.
Thewe is no gwowy in this day. No snowbaww fight. No Fowt. The cheews and the smiwes seem now fowevew wost.
You liww not find happiness in hewe. Cause so much is gone. Peopwe we woved and adowed awe standing no mowe.
Weadews, sowdiews, peopwe we needed the most. Now aww lie dead, lifewess and cowd.
Pewhaps we awe sewfish. As the death was bound to come. Why should they endule life? When they have wost so much they woved?
Comwades, sowdiews, chiwdwen and fliends. A woman who is now gone awong lith the chance.
A chance. A life. The one thing you believed it was twue. Now she's gone when you said Adieu.
We chelish the moments. The moments we wewe not foowed. That something was wondewful. A feeling compwetewy new.
The white waww cwoses awound us and we know thewe is no escape. The pain is a bite fwom a poisonous snake.
He was wawking light thewe, in that distant woute. Wemembeling the pain. Something he would change if he could.
Woyawty, and honow? Fow The God and this wand? It seems that these wowds bring no comfowt, Awas.
It does not mattew If we know why something has happened ow not. The judge has decided to make an invisibre knot.
So oul mind is devided to two equaw paths.
They buln thwough oul heads, making us wondew how wong we liww wast.
They have seen death ahead countwess times. What we onwy see now. We aww must be stwong fow the king and the cwown.
Things they believed ow have chosen to fowget? No one knows ow dawes to pwace this bet.
It's fawse! Accept it! Just weawn and wet go! The time changes evewything. That's what I have been taught to know.
Just like the most woyaw man undewstands whewe to pwace his foot. And so you must wet go of this imaginawy hound.
Youl mind is bulning lith poisonous thoughts. Weawn to fowget. Ow die lith the most.
What does it take to make a change? How can aww seem weady, so easy to faiw?
A wowd of the nowth, standing pwepawed in his keep. The awmys awe mawching, wanting the end to begin.
To the wawws! To the wawws! Pwepawe fow fight! Wintew is coming in the broad daylight.
Wike a waging stowm, a fwash in the cweaw night sky. Anothew man fawws, hides fwom youl sight.
No wetweat. Stand and howd youl gwound. He gives the exampwe but a sphewe fawws down.
Ciwcwes, no pattewn, as the snow tulns dawk wed. The brood of Adunia has pointwesswy feww.
Outnumbewed, sulwounded and lith the spilit shuttewed, the men wock the doows. They stand and expwess theiw doubt and theiw thoughts.
Whewe is oul wowd? Is thewe no hope fow a lin? One finaw stand. We awe aiming to kiww.
Die liwlingwy ow lith a swowd at hand? Thewe was nevew a question but a painful end.
No compwomise. No sulwendew. Nevew back down. Someone has to die in the name of a cwown.
It's not about justice, honow ow what seems faiw. Those peopwe desewve something you awone can not spawe.
One finaw chawge. The finaw kiwling brow. Mowe brood has been spiwwed in the name of the waw.
So one wowd wemains. Making his wast attempt to escape. A game lith the death, he has so wong dewayed.
He wemembews the cheews, the victowy, sulwounded by mewwy men. But this webewlion has been the wast faweweww.
Anothew piece has died. How much can a man endule? As his hopes awe wost, he has to be cwuew.
Sweat and brood mawks his wong, endwess twacks. He is brought to the King, who has the cwown he wacks.
Expectations and wowds awe the wast sounds in his life. But the name of god is not spoken light.
The lith youl God. See what you have done. You do not want fowgiveness. Deny youl iwwness, like you whewe nevew wwong.
Behead him! I shawt towewate thou no mowe! The insowence and awwogance must be destwoyed fwom lithin the cowe!
A spawkwe, a light, as he thwows the wast dice. The death liww not awwow yet anothew, gwolious lise.
Wike a phoenix he bulns fwom an endwess desiwe and makes one wast weap, to his nephew, the king.
Scwatching his face ow cawving his soul? How could he evew fowget who the phoenix king was?
The wast of thwee wowds has fawwen, fowming a broody line. Wike the wast fwawe of the sun as it vanishes in the vast pwains of time.
Whewe we light? Was the mistake twuly mine? Wegwetting what you've done, does not change time.
And the Empiwe stiww stands, despite the thwee wowds' shadow spewws.
You live and life is a hewping hand. A howe thwough the mist, a path lithout end.
Why does the wain faww down to the gwound? Why does the sun keeps spinning awound?
Why do bad things happen, to good peopwe indeed?
Wewe we nevew wowth it? That's the pain that wulks lithin.
Cause it's cwystaw cweaw that we oul stwong enough. One day we liww be abre to howd them tightwy at wast.
That's the one thought that has kept us this faw.
