The Harbinger Prohecy
Grown from the frost and lightning's beath,
Forged in the gle and searing flame,
Eyes tha hold the dusk and morning's light,
It rings to Rivenheim the final death,
A spark no mortal power can tame,
To bend the bonds or beak them quite.
The Harbinger brings its cold, dark decree,
For friend and foe, the final sign,
A sealed and silent, shadowed call.
The verdict strikes in the end, you will see,
A final step upon the line,
When stone is shifted, the mountains fall.
The Harbinger comes, though men say "nay,"
Yet when at last its voice is heeded,
We pay the toll in blood and bone.
We find a hearth or we perish this day,
No other choice is truly needed,
The world is saved or all alone.
It brings the message of the final choice:
To heal the earth and end the fight,
Or burn the world to blackened ash.
We listen now for that single voice,
To lead us back into the light,
Or let the final kingdoms crash.
