the dead marshes
Still still glance at lived life pry?
And why do thee desire them,
Fallen orcs and elves and men.
Why the candles do thee light,
To cox them in, to shadows bright,
To marshes where one battle fell,
Calling, calling, calling hell.
Open eyes do blankly stare
Through all the ages, faces fair
Look unto the starless sky,
Cursed souls- to never die.
Love is dead now, in this place,
Beware thee not to show them thy face,
For then the spell of ancient years
Shall prey on thee, by long dead tears.
And who are thee, to wander now,
Along this winding path, and how
Should thy moral sadness leave,
For they are dead; Do you believe?