Lyrically Speaking

Ravage from the Sky
A Dragons song translated by the bard known as Ian the Black

Blessed is the curse that fires my anger that reduces to ashes my own enemies,

They have unleashed upon themselves the discontent of their own agony by means of my fangs,

The whole of them have given birth to destruction in the breadth of the towns and municipalities that pervade their land,

They have not fed me to the point of sleek fatness and stupor and now the remuneration will be twofold upon them,

(Chorus I)
I will sing my song and their crops will wither,
I will intone my litany and their dwellings will become dust,
I will sing out and they will cry with heartbreaking poignancy,

(Chorus II)
I am winged death I must be fed,
I am the blazing widow maker I must be fed,
I am the ravage from the sky I must be fed,


I write stories about Ian The Black and I right the bards songs that are the theme to each story. This is my most recent one. The story is in developement. This is my introduction you.

“See what is not what appears to be.”