It was the sound of a quiver,
As my hand slid towards my quiver,
And as I could no longer feel my heart nor my liver.
They were racing towards us, like a river.
And soon, hope slimmed down to a sliver.
Those were beasts, foul men, here to deliver
Death and despair upon every soul standing on the light side of the river.
“Hold! My soldiers.” Shouted my liege. “Hit them with a rain of cuivre!”
Yet their eyes feared not, and our entire line was ashiver.
Lord, welcome me in your midst. I will be joining you, my forgiver.
