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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
You had better tell naught


The Steward suffers the weight of the realm of marble and stone,
Often he treats friends in the manner of strangers to be careful of, willing to curse the dry present, miserable leader and lone,
Beware of your words, for immensely dear to him was his son and frequently does his eye gaze afar,
Not via common means was his sight widened, but through powerful magic that is likely to mar.

Trust me, for the hard contest we fought, you had better tell naught.

Walküre:
Ready I am to bear the brunt


Ready I am to bear the brunt of my future being,
The prophecy has spoken clearly and the Wise this had known since the awakening of the creeping twilight,
Ready I am to take down the robes of rangers and the duties amidst the wild woods of the world,
My lineage summons me before the ramparts of the White Tower, knelt in front of doom, to lead my loyal ranks to battle and to assure that all free realms stay secure.

Walküre:
Balance and much cunning

The dispositions of the Lords had balance in their deepest root,
Foremost reason of justness and of order the fruit,
Cunning had to be faced and battled for good, for cunning the Archangels are not,
They are masters of science, wisdom and more, and when the Queen seeks to warn the adversaries of light, the Enemy knows that his design shall crumble and is to rot.

Walküre:
Seeds and sedition

Nay, the northern force of ours consumed was not by open war,
The seeds of dissent were secretly sown in the ignorance of the most and sewn was also a grand tapestry of treason,
Plans were made, very carefully, for the glorious reign to be mauled from within,
While fell winter was coming and casting its shadow on the region, hidden in frozen halls and rejoicing in the dark at the misery of its foes.

Walküre:
Death would be the honourable ending


Disobey I had to, disowning perhaps the name of my very king,
But I cannot depart from my ardent wish, partaking in deeds that one might sing,
I shall ride in the company of my friends, disguised as it should be, loose and free,
My tormented love I leave behind my back and it shall watch me wielding the sword, meeting a death of honour, which even now I may from afar see.

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