A city once great, now burns small
An burnt out doorway beckons me in
the towers are no longer imposing and tall
and I yearn for what might have been

I stare at the once magnificent gate
Once it was golden now it is rust
Wrecked by war and battles and hate.
A great city destroyed by anothers bloodlust.

The guards had held it long and hard
The citizens walked slowly around in sadness or fear.
Some soldiers weakened others starred
as news was reported, for the public to hear.

We were outnumber and so it seemed
we would be taken, consumed by rage
A captain named Donkar our army he redeemed
and to find out what happened, pray, turn the page.

Donkar fought, tell his sword was red
Though it was a lost cause
His army were dead
The attackers burst through with swords like saws

No man they was left alive
Nor woman, nor child
All were evacuated, out of our hive
Tis said they all ran into the wild.

I must forever remain here
For I am Donkar, and am now a ghost
Though not one citizen shed a tear
But I will stay here the cities one host.



Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Daedalan, in the year 513 AF.