(Finally, I've entered something into this community, I can sleep soundly now. Anyways, this may be a series I'm starting.. maybe, kind sorta... possibly.)
A house-
Burns.
Its residents' blood staining the cold white snow.
From the deluge- an Orphan is born.
A race, thought dead, rise from forgotten tombs-
War.
A blood-oath is sworn.
For He, whose kin fell prey to a Blind Battle,
He, who was the first victim of a Deaf War,
He, who’s wrath is unending,
Who’s hate unresting,
And blood ever-boiling,
would be Their undoing.
For when storms gather,
And winds howl.
When the white snow of Skyrim is stained with the Blood of Brothers,
And rain pours black with the grief of Mothers.
When false Kings rise,
And true Heirs- die.
When great wings block out the Sun,
And swallow the Moons.
When Aldiun wakes,
And the very Earth shakes.
The World is doomed to forever change.
When the wheel turns on the Last Dragonborn-
A New Age dawns.
So it will be His world:
Destined- to save It.
Destined- to Doom It
Destined- to rise from Its Darkness,
With a New Sun and by its light-
Mold It.
Replies
A very ominous start to what will be a great series. Excellent work Ramses
Thanks, Curse!