How frail is this mountain

Upon which our stronghold stands?

Were but one stone to shift

All would subside to naught

When the walls lie in ruin around you

Cursed the foul earth that bore you

Withering among the rocks

Rending and devouring flesh of your own

When flames scorch fields and claw at your door…

Bereft of hope, descending

Devolving to beast, no other will you spare

Lie in the torrent of embers

Draw deep the breath of pestilence

Grow as blight on the living

Hone, teeth to bone