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A somber poem about a man forced to atone for his mistakes |
A warrior by my fate Doomed to walk this world and wait Cursed to roam from gate to gate Searching an end to this my fate. The power held in my hand the fire that I command Upon my brow lies a brand And I shall walk alone this land. Through barren plains filled with moans And their sad cries and dismal groans Through long halls made out of stone Along high cliffs I walk alone. |