The Voice sounded a trilling note,
Fluttered it did among the leaves bedewed.
Here among the pitter-patter of droplets,
The boom the thunder cleaves.
The song that sorrow wrote.

The cry of Nature's own echoed,
Grievance born of the wiccan power.
The tears of the shadow fettered and the silver tickled
Give testament in the death of the fae shackled.

And the spirits awoke, bidden from the forest floor,
Their hum a drowning whisper slow.
The past, their present, ancient history lived.
Yet our vices show true
Against the pallid clarity of their eyes.

The beasts bellow a cacophonic harmony,
Bones of stone quake.
Protection for their home have the sought,
The company of the brave.

The Voice sounded a trilling note,
Fluttered it did among the leaves bedewed.
Here among the pitter-patter of droplets,
The boom the thunder cleaves.
The song that Trialante wrought.