Too late now to sue for terms,
Both waiting, convinced
Assured of sea changes by fee-taking seers,
Who portend to commune with the Gods of men.
The Anduin polluted flowing grey-blue past Amon Hen;
The salt-scraped feet of the great man of the past,
The darkness carpeting the deep,
Since creation’s most fertile music was harnessed;
No amen for the departed.
Alchemisland 
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