The first will be born of
fire and ash,
The next will be born of
water and wind,
The third will be born of
rotting flesh,
The last will be born rock
and sand.
The first will burn the world
to dust,
The next will sustain the
will of life,
The third will decay with
time untold,
The last will build the world
of hope.
The first will die when all
is gone,
The next will weep to the
end of time,
The third will fail the tides
of change,
The last will stay and hold
the past.
If ever man is lost to hope,
Then life is not worth living.
Remember me, the guardian
of lost dreams.
Dancloud