Laga, Ragalor — Still She Rises

The Tide Came Home, But Not The Ships
The Hearth Burned Low On Grieving Lips
Beneath The Moon, The Cold Earth Stirred
And Through Her Bones, Its Summons Burned
I Wept Where No Returning Oar Was Heard
I Bled Beneath The Bright Edge Of The Sword
When Sorrow Crossed My Door Without A Sound
It Claimed A Place Beside My Fire And Stayed
Yet Every Dawn, Life Called Me From The Dark
I Rose With All My Wounds Beneath My Heart