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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Imagination and fiery passion


The fiery force which life gives,
Which moulds things and shapes the not-defined,
It is this path that matter has conceived, from sheer thought and will,
Yet one needs more, for only an infinite love could fashion reality in a so splendid manner, whereas the fell kind knows only corruption and naught of sincere wit.

Walküre:
Smear tactics


Along the heath many lies have been spread, as one may hear and notice,
A venomous mouth has told phoney tales, because fear of the Good the common man must have,
And so they say, in truth and dreadful way, that ghosts dwell under the trees of Lórien,
And that a mighty sorceress rules the spirits in there, shaping webs of lies and deceit, to frustrate the knights and to bring nightmare to the farmer who much works on his labour.

Walküre:
The Lady who does not die


Famous and renowned, awe and fear it might be,
It is nonetheless certain that the people of Gondor know her name,
As an antique Elven Queen, who resides in a golden domain, secluded and hidden from the outer shires of the known World,
And the tale goes, that she wields great power and that time may not menace her never-ending beauty which long ages endured.

Walküre:
A sad tale


The Lord of Imladris bears the weight of sorrow,
In many facets and numerous ways, as he fought valiant and proud,
Since the last grand conflict of the Elder Days, and all he loved and his shelter he had to defend from the creeping shadow of the East,
Until he bode farewell to his one-time radiant wife and love, for much she suffered and for departure with unceasing desire she had started longing.

Walküre:
The Moon-city


It is one of the pearls of Gondor for sure,
Carved into malicious stone, beside a realm of terror and tyranny,
Because it is a stronghold, guarded and robust, to watch over and ever-vigilant remain,
At the footsteps of the Evil which in any moment lurks and waits,

And this is certainly a somber of a story, sung in tales and much among the grey ways of the Third Age spoken,
For the Enemy has exactly returned one day,
A nightmare of old times in the past, a gruesome power which the frozen North used to terrorise,
It returned anew, and the fair city of moonlight in horror was turned, ghoulish and horrible for any eye that still cherishes love and honour.

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