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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
Hands dirty and unworthy


Woeful hand, dirty of blood or author of malicious acts, you shall never be granted that chance,
To hold possession of the Jewels and claim their true property as yours, even once,
That hand will agonise and burn of intense pain, which would be as a fire that all devours and naught might placate,
It is to be a curse and severe warning, for whom proves unworthy and for those who to such vile character may relate.

Walküre:
Heirlooms of old, worthy of war


Gems and jewels clothed in the flare of a star,
White and pure, candidly bright, in common remembrance far,
You should not deal out a judgement of censure, should the Woodland King crave such treasure,
For those stones of miracle carry on a legacy lost in the eras, where hazard was in fouler shape and the sole Stars were indeed a lone light in a long night, comprised of nightmares and tales of wonder without measure.

Walküre:
The return


Gandalf, I wonder whether all these grandiose deeds of ours shall be kept sound in one's heart. I wonder whether grief will kindle my memory in equal manner as all the other thoughts of joy that I have hitherto collected. It was with surprise that my adventure has had its start, do you remember? When you had met that solitary Hobbit, chilling among the comfortable whereabouts of his nice house; smoking our pipe-weed with pleasure, as the sole dwellers of the Shire can do. And I had been doubtful unto that precise moment, for little, if naught at all, did I know that a quest would suddenly knock on my wooden door.

And I will be forever grateful for it, my unusual wizard-friend. In spite of the strife we had to go through, be it captivity in a gaol of resistant iron or the tragedy of war, my heart has been filled with what I really needed and longed for. Ultimately, the good and the bad I will both keep with me, safe in my reminiscing. I sense that the call of fate will probably hail me another time still: my part in the tale is not over yet. Will the service of a burglar be again of some use for the legends of this earth?

Walküre:
A new dawn, for a troublesome world


Shine, new lamp of mine,
Thou shalt fly through the mazes of the air, ardent and fine,
A new dawn is to rise and break that wicked sleep,
For new toil needeth new light, albeit the proud Noldo being still doomed to weep.

Walküre:
An ancient enemy, buried in thick ice and snow


Our people of the broad forest should not be held hostage of fear, I feel like advising in the most benevolent will,
We patrol long and thorough the territories within the width of our green domain, for guard must not be lowered in any case, especially in the hour of awakening shadows from the caverns and lairs of the unknown,
Some head north, in rare occasions, to observe those menacing peaks that bar the passage through the mountain chain, which is foul dwelling of Orcs and akin filth,
Beyond, once lay the kingdom of Angmar yonder, an ancient enemy of the people with good soul, now buried in thick ice and snow, although scarce are the chances that the fallen adversary could pave its path into our present, unless twilight covers the entire earldom of Arda in a worse second night.

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