Broken table, oh th' Seer wishes to greet thee,
At your doorstep on bended knee,
Yet thy merwood legs do not walk.
How will you answer the call of the Seer?
As your grains of Dyra tree fade black,
The third moon wishes you to play.
Do you not want play, broken table?
How will you ever enjoy life?
Gratitude runs thin with the people of water,
The Sharrs desire true freedom.
No longer will they care for you.
Will your dusty merwood simply rot?
Kingdoms far and legions wide
Crumble to ashes with fear.
You can see their crystal demise;
They will never gain their feet again.
Now the Titan of Moons descends from the Garden,
He wishes to see you and all your broken friends.
He sees your profound loneliness
Parallel only to the White Star.
~You shall see them for all eternity.~
