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Poetry by Borgu: Dwarven Halls



Dwarven Halls 
 

What lives ever on, 
yet never ages? 
What defends some, 
but not others? 

What is its own, 
in a way, 
What is owned by others, 
in a way? 

Who we love and care for, 
yet never look for? 
For it can be found, 
deep under the ground. 

No others dared to seek, 
what little there was. 
Until the Dwarves came, 
and built great things; 
with that which they found, 
in our, renowned: 
Dwarven Halls.