The Citedel of Cinders

Cradled betwixt the crystal seas Where groweth the fabled thunder thistle trees Where holy winds blow lightning leaves Across oceans of undead thieves, Who seek to consume, and perhaps commune With those who seem to be immune To the suffering of mortality Behold the living remnants of humanity! Here where the plants flourish, and the living seek to nourish The lands they were given, by guarding the treasures of life that some seek to be taken So do you awaken, amidst oceans of fabric, upon a loving bed And to you ought to be said, that you shan't be bled. The Citedel of Cinders! Where light is born of hallowed timbers Of trees that sprout from the Earth, welcoming thou into thine Hearth! Whose King cradles the colors of creation, whose crown is riddled in a most luminous sensation. A land where the dead are not welcome, instead, the living live and have not yet bled, in a land where sadness is seldom, and joy is welcome!