The legions of the Eagle come
To the bless’d Raven’s home,
Shackled the land and the people,
Burning their sacred groves.
Eagles live in Aeries of gleaming gold,
Yet covet a raven’s humble tents,
Thirsty for glory and hungry for power
For no sake but its own.
Yet the Raven resisted, fighting
Alongside the Lion of the north,
And the Dragon of Red,
Refusing to go quietly
Into that good-night.
The Eagle placed the Lion
Behind a guarded wall,
For fear he might get bitten,
Or crushed by a mighty paw.
The Dragon and the Raven
He smothered together
Under the yoke of his love,
Until the day his aerie collapsed
Under its own bloated weight,
And all that was left to fear
Was the coming of the Blood Red Dove.