The elves' song has ended The dwarves' forge is cold The gnomes' machines are unmoving The minoataurs' sails are flaccid The dragons' fire has burnt out And the human spirit has been quenched. The sky is a black blanket The wind is unmoving The earth is cold And the forest is silent. The wizards' tower is dim The cities of folk are still The beasts of the wild are nowhere to be found And the ocean's surface is flat. Not a single star shines bright The bonfire's embers have gone cold The torches' glow is no more The sun has faded, and moon is dead. The Crimson King has stopped his howling The Dark Lord's lidless eye searches no longer Nuitari's black moon is nowhere to be seen And even Thoth-Amon has stopped his schemes. There is no sound to be heard No sight to be seen Darkness covers all lands And the living have fled to safety. There is nothing left to do The world is grey The mountain's old The forge's fire Is ashen cold.