I. I tried to see across the Well, and wept
As thoughts of times gone by came flooding in
To drown the fallen souls, the wailing din
A mem'ry of how o'er that well I leapt
As if by habit, to the edge I crept
'Twas not so long ago we stood as kin
Accepting brothers with unending grins
What lasts, if not the fondness that I've kept?
That's why I hold these stories dear to me
We fought, we spoke, and 'round great troubles swerved
My duty, always trying to tell these tales
Preserving them for an eternity
Those great ideals I once swore to serve
The Battlelord's great legacy I hail.

II. Near hundred fifty years have swiftly passed
Since I stood leading the Basilica
That institution of Imithia's
Where once an Empire's founder had his mass
Were we so eager to forget our past?
As if delusion brought on by liqueur
Its Heroes' faces swept away and blurred
For me, that gorgeous mem'ry ever lasts
And as the organ's last chord never fades
Until th'assembled truly thinks it's gone
The Church's harmonies were too well-made
To be forgotten like they'd never come
So ever will the Paladins' blades ring
Where Priests still teach and Handel's choir sings.

III. In Jaru, Lord Makarta's home lays bare
A shrine for older Champions like me
He once accepted me for meager fee
To join those fighting for a justice rare
Until that day he fought odds too unfair
The new age Quisalis, with cruel glee
Slew the old Champion for the world to see
Yu'tar and Isiva safe in their lair
'Twas many years 'ere we could strike them back
But when we did, o justice felt so sweet
I shook that helm from chandelier above
Delivered to Atlantia for I lacked
The destiny of holding that high seat
And so returned the Ivory Mark I love.

IV. I walk through memories at a mountain Shrine
A monument to Those Who fell not long ago
In war against deceit and wrongs
They're thought of often, mortals tend to pine
We seek a path to walk with well-marked lines
A race that's started by a ringing gong
But lessons are oft taught by branding tongs
A harsher, crueler sort of levied fine
Paid not with gold, but rather with the soul
We kick and flail, but we can't win this fight
Internal struggle can't be beat with might
It renders even stallions merely foals
In victory or defeat, we'll still fight on
How do you fight the Queen when you're a pawn?

V. Twice in my life, I've lived away from roads
Once when I lost all that I'd fought to earn
The other, now as Nature takes Her turn
Great stone walls that I've built crack and erode
Unwilling to continue bearing loads
From holding things I'd say and things I've learned
A poor foundation's better to let burn
And start anew in wholly different modes
Like neurotoxin of a deadly snake
It's best to cut the limb to stop its spread
To serve best, one must never hesitate
There're times to think and times to watch or wait
When trails fade and you can't help feeling dread
Trust in your instinct - that is never fake.

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Chronos, in the year 648 AF.