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This sword I carry, forged years ago

Given to me by my father, no gift but a curse

Cursed to wander these lands far from my home

Cursed to be afraid and journey on my own

This shield I carry, carved from the wood

Of a tree in my town, countless years ago

Built to protect me from everything I fear

Illusions from my mind and things I cannot see.

My armour shines in the setting sun

Shadows grow and the air is cold

Whispering voice in a tongue unknown to me

In this forest will I die?