Twas the year of the Caliph
Mirane, taking claim
to a throne so corrupted
and sullied with shame

And of the Imithian tsol
making claims e'er so bold,
Is it just the crippling toll
of believing all that you're told?

I tend to judge lastly,
and give others a chance
So I'll not cut hastily
but teach what Churchmen can't.

When we are willing
to sacrifice everything
all to ensure we don't fail

then how can it be
that to ally with the
strongest ever be a betrayal?

'Tis a shame your weak kin
tried to damn us for our sins
but now like sternum ripped out like a toys.

Adders crave Imithian blood for now
Biting at night, ne'er raising a row
you're the next the shadows will destroy.



- a Naga





Penned by my hand on the 7th of Valnuary, in the year 524 AF.