It Ends Here

Beware the beast whose cave falls silent,
Who neither sleeps, nor wakes for day,
Who scars the sand and hates the tide,
Whose fields are bitter with last year's chaff

Beware the creature who will not fall,
Whose claws do clamp,
And shadow glows warm,
With words heavy as Roch’th¹⁾

Beware the being of rot,
The one whose fear is fate,
Beware the stagnant night.
Beware! Beware! Beware!²⁾

¹⁾

A casual pronunciation of 'rochaithe'.

²⁾

This poem is one of few century-old pieces that were written down and survived the collapse, though the existence of common sayings inspired by this poem far away from academic centres suggests that the lesson and lyrics are much older than 100 years.

Warding Motion

Contagion