Night of forest,
Day of dune,
Swirling through the seasons gone,
Blade of foebeast,
Shaft of defender,
All have melted into one.
Memory grows fainter,
As the survivors sleep,
One by one,
Warriors gone to their rest,
Leave their tales behind.
Sleep! The warrior, to his rest,
His kin and kith, gone before him,
Welcome him to their sides at last,
The dead and gone, they say,
Shall always be that way,
But no, they never were,
Quoth the wise one to his crowd,
For their memory lives on.