The Dragonseed Lament | Ethereal Nordic Fantasy Ballad149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4hbQlwHOTd
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In frost-veiled days a noble king arose,
Who summoned forth the wyrm from waters cold.
Upon its back through starlit storm he rode,
And bent its ancient fury to his hold.
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The sun-scorched city drank from dragon’s pool,
No mortal well could slake their secret thirst.
By moonlight walked the wyrm in human guise,
And sired fierce sons upon the women cursed.
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The dragonseed raced swift as running horse,
With fire in blood and thunder in their vein.
Yet swelling pride soon turned their hearts to coarse,
They scorned the crown and broke the royal rein.
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A shadowed king beheld their rebel might,
And called the eastern hordes with whispered word.
In blood and steel he quenched their dragon light,
Till none remained of all the wyrm-kin heard.
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Oh the dragon still dreams beneath the cold wave,
His children lie slain in a crimson grave.
The city stands silent, its glory undone,
Where dragonseed pride met its final run.
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