Metal-Narloth

THE HOLY VICTORY OF THE MIGHTY POWER OF THE DRAGONFLAME (An epic poem) The wasted land is dim and broad, I hear swords clashing, cries and moan. A fell and mighty demonlord Is sitting on his sable throne. He holds in hand the magic sword, Which with betrayal he did own, His reign is woe and ruin untold, He drinks red blood from cup of gold. A dark desire burns in his soul, Desire to torture, kill and rape, To humiliate, break and enthrall - Pure evil taken human shape, Dark, hideous, but proud and tall; His dungeons no one can escape. Both great and fearsome is his fame, King Akron is the tyrant’s name. There comes the