Laga, Ragalor — Hands That Heal

Water
I Hear You
Do Not Leave Me Here
I Will Not
I Walked Beyond The Reach Of Victory Songs
Past Broken Shields And Bodies In The Grass
Men Who Had Roared Now Whispered, “Water, Please.”
I Carried Cloth, Crushed Herbs, And Heated Water
No Blade Hung Waiting At My Side
I Knelt Where Others Could Not Bear To Look