My sands, I grip it in my hands,
My precious, shan't lose a single grain of sand,
The sands, how they cut my hands
But take from me, not one you shall,

A gentle breeze drifts past me
Embraces me, holds me,
Whispers as it's fingers tugs at mine
Daughter of the ocean, she says
Come, walk with me,
And as I let her take my hands,
My sands, in my hands
They fall, they rise
Around me, through me
Holds me, frees me.
Free, with her I fly,
I live, I die.

For six days and nights rose the clarion call,
A summons, Warriors of the Hall,
Blades unsheathed, valiant, we fought,
Fell demons which the Wise Ones wrought,
But my tired brethren, rest not in peace,
For shattered steel shall be whole once more.
Heed this summons, ye Warriors of the Hall
The battle has ended.
Begin the war...

And yet with his dying breath he calls,
Summons the dragons might
Fires within me, I say come forth,
In your pheonix fires, I am reborn,
An eternal I shall fight...

Tremors rend the silent sky,
A northern chill in the air,
Birds silent, though they wish to sound
A giant has fallen this day...