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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Necessity is to avail the effort


One ought not to disregard the talent that one was granted by the fates of Eä, of matter and pain,
Necessity always avails quests and the brave soul rewards,
Via miraculous means a solution might be really at hand,
If one is up to the challenge and to seize the just chance ready as never before.

Walküre:
Those are mournful spirits...


Those are mournful spirits, trapped in the marshes of horror which the deadly fight had experienced,
They do not rest, nor are their corpses given relief from the persisting grief that has tainted those dangerous borders,
Man of Gondor, do not get near such open-air churchyard of lost souls, lest your life be wasted in foolish manner, when you are instead much precious for the cause of your mighty kingdom,
Hearken, travellers, away from these ghoulish graves of mud and water you must remain, for they are treacherous and to death you they wish to lead as well, being this a hazard which needn't be undertaken in any way.

Walküre:
Countless tears


Countless tears have been shed and now water the lands and secretive halls in which such bloody battles have taken place, because the Dwarves yearned to conquer back the tenure of their kingdom in the vast mines of Moria, that unspeakable sorrows through time have seen, and countless were then the battles to repel the invaders up to their foul lairs, yet the Orcs of Arda are not the only antagonist of the tale, for Dwarven lords grew also greedy for gold and wealth, and their excavations they never ceased, until the fire of demons was eventually awakened in the abyss of Arda, and all knew that it would bring much ruin and of Durin's kin the bane it would turn into.

Walküre:
The Eerie Forest


Branches resemble claws of the nastiest fashion,
Beasts are no more solitary or peaceful as they were before,
Poison spreads over the green ways of the woods of unfortunate destiny, while the black hand of a nameless shadow extends its influence and control seeks with hunger of dominion,
The Woodland Realm lies silent on the northern ends and resilient it stays through watchful guarding and isolated mood, and the king lost faith in the World and his own subjects suspicious made.

Walküre:
Torture


Aye, Frodo, that creature was captured by Mordor and in chains brought to the fortress of malice, where infinite agony him awaited, and the ruthless touch of the Dark Lord he clearly sensed, while he suffered as never in his long unnatural life, and his captors finally found what they were in spasmodic search of, as the depleted and shattered captive managed to name the burglar that his treasure many years ago had stolen, with the fiery eye now turning to these merry shires of yours, to reclaim what is his only and always.

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