Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide (Cover v4)

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O Y’all who bore the poet’s lyre,
A Poetaster drowned in fire.
Elf-born singer of mirth and hymn,
Yet bound beneath the chains of Sin.

Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide,
When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside?
Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray,
Or shattered and scattered at break of day?

Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground,
Or silenced and stifled with no more sound?
Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight,
Or vanished and banished into the night?

And You all who traded wares,
The Vendorable with cunning snares.
Dwarf of coin and gold’s delight,
Yet War consumed you in the fight.

O You lot with curses black,
The Fearmancer on shadow’s track.
Orcish tongue of bitter spell,
Dragged screaming to the halls of Hel.

Y’all who brewed with vial and flask,
The Brewmancer in secret task.
An Oink with bubbling cauldron red,
Fell to War and left for dead.

You all who bent the bow to sing,
The Bowman loosed his final string.
Elf of keen and starlit sight,
Struck by Sin in dead of night.

And You lot who cried aloud,
The Crier’s voice drew too much crowd.
A Troll who shouted, fierce as flame,
Hel took the breath that bore his name.

Y’all who tamed the beast’s wild call,
The Tamer broke yet lost it all.
Undead rider of wolf and hound,
Cast in Sin and underground.

You all who baked with sugared hands,
The Cookie fell to shifting sands.
Oink of sweetness, humble kin,
But War devoured the feast within.

O You lot who mapped the stars,
The Portaleer with broken jars.
Dwarf of stone who sought the room,
Was torn in Hel’s own grave-like tomb.

Y’all who danced with flashing feet,
The Dancer faltered in defeat.
Elf of beauty, lost to Sin,
The crowd went silent, drawn within.

You all who grew with leaf and root,
The Druid fell, their vows left mute.
Troll of branches, beast and skin,
Broken beneath the weight of War.

You lot who roared with primal might,
The Bearserker died mid-fight.
Orc of fangs, of blood and din,
Dragged screaming down to Hel within.

Y’all who prayed to skies above,
The Theurgist lost their love.
Undead soul, with psalms of light,
Yet Sin unmade their holy rite.

You all who peered through time’s cold glass,
The Seer foresaw they would not last.
Elf of vision, keen and thin,
Yet War erased what they had seen.

O You lot of whispered prayer,
The Thaumaturge fell unaware.
Dwarf of shrines and temple din,
Dragged down by Hel for hidden sin.

Y’all who spoke with tongues of flame,
The Linguist lost the final game.
Orc of runes and twisting kin,
Fell beneath the brand of Sin.

Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide,
When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside?
Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray,
Or shattered and scattered at break of day?

Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground,
Or silenced and stifled with no more sound?
Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight,
Or vanished and banished into the night?

You all who fought with steel so bright,
The Combatant died that night.
Troll of war, with scars within,
Shattered in the march of War.

You lot who raised the stones to stand,
The Golemancer’s crumbling hand.
Undead worker, cold as tin,
Crushed beneath the weight of Hel.

Y’all who made from tool and blade,
The Itemancer’s end was made.
Oink of craft, with hopeful grin,
Lost forever to the grip of Sin.

You all who sang a deadly song,
The Soloist did not last long.
Elf of passion, fierce and thin,
Shattered in the storm of War.

And You lot with chaos wild,
The Neophyte—unholy child.
Troll of madness, cursed within,
Taken whole by Hel and Sin.

Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide,
When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside?
Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray,
Or shattered and scattered at break of day?

Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground,
Or silenced and stifled with no more sound?
Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight,
Or vanished and banished into the night?

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O Y’all who bore the poet’s lyre, A Poetaster drowned in fire. Elf-born singer of mirth and hymn, Yet bound beneath the chains of Sin. Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide, When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside? Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray, Or shattered and scattered at break of day? Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground, Or silenced and stifled with no more sound? Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight, Or vanished and banished into the night? And You all who traded wares, The Vendorable with cunning snares. Dwarf of coin and gold’s delight, Yet War consumed you in the fight. O You lot with curses black, The Fearmancer on shadow’s track. Orcish tongue of bitter spell, Dragged screaming to the halls of Hel. Y’all who brewed with vial and flask, The Brewmancer in secret task. An Oink with bubbling cauldron red, Fell to War and left for dead. You all who bent the bow to sing, The Bowman loosed his final string. Elf of keen and starlit sight, Struck by Sin in dead of night. And You lot who cried aloud, The Crier’s voice drew too much crowd. A Troll who shouted, fierce as flame, Hel took the breath that bore his name. Y’all who tamed the beast’s wild call, The Tamer broke yet lost it all. Undead rider of wolf and hound, Cast in Sin and underground. You all who baked with sugared hands, The Cookie fell to shifting sands. Oink of sweetness, humble kin, But War devoured the feast within. O You lot who mapped the stars, The Portaleer with broken jars. Dwarf of stone who sought the room, Was torn in Hel’s own grave-like tomb. Y’all who danced with flashing feet, The Dancer faltered in defeat. Elf of beauty, lost to Sin, The crowd went silent, drawn within. You all who grew with leaf and root, The Druid fell, their vows left mute. Troll of branches, beast and skin, Broken beneath the weight of War. You lot who roared with primal might, The Bearserker died mid-fight. Orc of fangs, of blood and din, Dragged screaming down to Hel within. Y’all who prayed to skies above, The Theurgist lost their love. Undead soul, with psalms of light, Yet Sin unmade their holy rite. You all who peered through time’s cold glass, The Seer foresaw they would not last. Elf of vision, keen and thin, Yet War erased what they had seen. O You lot of whispered prayer, The Thaumaturge fell unaware. Dwarf of shrines and temple din, Dragged down by Hel for hidden sin. Y’all who spoke with tongues of flame, The Linguist lost the final game. Orc of runes and twisting kin, Fell beneath the brand of Sin. Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide, When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside? Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray, Or shattered and scattered at break of day? Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground, Or silenced and stifled with no more sound? Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight, Or vanished and banished into the night? You all who fought with steel so bright, The Combatant died that night. Troll of war, with scars within, Shattered in the march of War. You lot who raised the stones to stand, The Golemancer’s crumbling hand. Undead worker, cold as tin, Crushed beneath the weight of Hel. Y’all who made from tool and blade, The Itemancer’s end was made. Oink of craft, with hopeful grin, Lost forever to the grip of Sin. You all who sang a deadly song, The Soloist did not last long. Elf of passion, fierce and thin, Shattered in the storm of War. And You lot with chaos wild, The Neophyte—unholy child. Troll of madness, cursed within, Taken whole by Hel and Sin. Were you Downed and Drowned in the raging tide, When the Dungeons of Doom swallowed you inside? Were you Fallen or Broken, crushed in the fray, Or shattered and scattered at break of day? Were you buried or carried, swept to the ground, Or silenced and stifled with no more sound? Were you beaten or eaten, lost to the fight, Or vanished and banished into the night?

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