Descending

Now the Sword made all of Fire is a weapon kin to madness
For the Flame which it is made of, wild, fickle, fierce and fey.
With the storm-clouds fast descending, letting lightning herd the
weary
As the iron fist of judgment makes a mockery of the day.

And the Bow of Steel and Moonlight is the laughter of deception
For the shifting strands of Sliver hide the peril, fool the eye
And the Ancient Curse of Knowledge is the howling of the needy
As the suffering of the stranger meets the churning of the sky.

All the iron in the world cannot abate the Blood within you
As it rises, flowing, surging to the moon-call of the tide
Battle rising, sure and shining, dancing through a fog of ruby
For the calling of the heavens cannot be a force denied.

And the End of the Beginning is a snake that lacks a tail
Ever writhing to the rhythm, dancing through the dark and light.
In the eye a halo flickers, fever-fire of passion rending
For the Moon that stalks the heavens walks through both the Day and
Night.