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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Shadows

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What shadows lie beneath

these hallowed dwarven halls?

What dark and stained relief

casts forth upon it's walls?

 

Such lamentations drift

from deep within the dark,

then plunge into the rift

in which all things are stark.

 

What souls ne'er to be found,

once known to you and me,

lie dead upon the ground

as far the eye can see.

 

Once from this wondrous place,

marched armies forth to war,

yet now what greets the face

is bones by hundreds, more.

 

Oh, friends both rich and true,

all lost and gone beneath.

What has become of you,

where shall I lay your wreath?

 

For shadows marked your last

and shadows hold you still.

How could this come to pass,

that shadows took The Hill?

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