---

The grim camaraderie of failed men and women

Haunt the white plains of hell

Labyrinthian graves

A wretched span of killing and dying

Still in the mud of the valley

Guarded by gods above and below

Cloaked in hide

and banded-wood breast plate

The Wardens of the Iron Helm

Bound in hidden kinship they recite their vow:

To cleanse the waters of history

To fashion new civilization

deemed decent and righteous

To defend their right

to suffer their own imperfections

A song for those who slid lifeless down the blade

Grand Fathers of Light

Let the children drink freely

from the cup of your palm

Let the sanguine crystal hallways

grant us fervour within

As we walk upon the wind