Thy end lieth hidden in the gloaming.
Fearsome engines belch forth fires of thy destruction.
As thee began, so shalt thou end.
Manann's folk shalt love thee not.
Be like the dancer for rude words bring Morr to thy side.
Thy generosity bringeth tuppence and a sword in return.
A beast of brass bellows for thee.
Without the big cross, thou shalt make the wrong decision.
Cacklefax grips tight to coins of they doom.
The sword shalt bring no justice, only suffering.