Welcome to Wall, the Slumbering City.

All that is live may yet wither;
Doorways e’er closed may be breached;
Toothless, this maw, alike winter;
Is Death in a mask, guised as weak.

Trust not this false apparition;
For gods and devils alike weep;
Be mindful of words of sedition;
Like blades do their tongues cut the deep.

— An Excerpt from “Aigeannenolle”, a vocal history of the city of Wall.

Aigeann

Razz