He waits behind the wall.
In a palace of tortured glass.
Served by the leigons,
forged from the tears of the restless dead.

And clad in armor,
carved from the suffering of mothers.

In his right hand he holds a dead star.
In his left hand he holds the candle whos light is shadow.

His left hand is stained in the blood of Am Daegar

His six moths speak in diffrent tounges.
And the seventh shall sing the song that ends the earth.