Essay by fathmathshifnaA+, October 2006

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Glass of hours stand n be broken here

Sands of tears cryeth till none hears

Break of Feiries thus cometh near

Thence let all be feared

For folks in pact an' those dear

Of 'a evil broken an' bound there

Holds they glee stead of fell swords

Standards be wrote of soft soothing words

Chants they no rhymes an' plays no cords

Equals they make of common with lords

Bringeth they bless on platter of gods

Thus break they shall pain o' 'a worlds

Crack them thou shall not with tempts of offer

Deal not thee by force might as thee be weaker

But forth go behind mask o' fear an' speak-up

Binding them in words lure um to Killak

Hour of quarter pass alter six hundred and six lack

Drain them 'a light maketh thence mortals to be pluck

Be weary still of 'a one named Ulore Valdes

Slip like he through chances or taken steps

For he be 'a one bound to guard 'a Vale of Clades

One of us he be at close of 'a Vales high step

Be now he lost, for centuries with them broke him

Wont he is to foul 'a lure and alone he still be stronger

For one of fiery he is not, but 'a pure blood of a Vendigone

Last of his kith wielder of minds c'lore be his game

Bright as 'a north star his mind roams in dimensions gone

Feared is he as our ally in these forlorn days o' closure came

Thus last he saw 'a future, whence came a way

To deal of Feiries an' 'a foreseen change of Ulore

This secret is bound to 'a hands of a barstard son

Who cometh from 'a spine of Ulores comrade Sith

Trust him not to wander in thought...