In the valley of eve,
Fell the sun into sorrow.
The silver stars laid low,
Yet by darkling sky ungrieved.
Crimson was the still dawn,
The wind wailed down, the clear lake
Shone red in evil’s wake,
Yet none by the shore did mourn.
O forsaken land, o failing breath,
O fallen kin and cursed waste,
O unhappy fate I would embrace,
Yet by ill fortune scorned by death.
- Improvised and sung by Angrinc in the Hall of Fire, later set down and recorded as best as he could remember it
