We’ve seen our share of wonder, vast And small. More than most, have ever Our peace is made Death troubles us not For she too knows, Smoke and Mirrors haunt us From mistakes of century past
Enough. Our legacy awaits Through ashen flame, Veela are born Through ashen skies; Veela are forged Through ashen fume; Veela are tempered
Though the sun has fled And the moon hides Our ashen feathers spread wide Though our light grows faded And our hearts still None will cower, None will falter With naught but a sword in hand We enter the lions den We’re not waiting for a war We bring the war to them
Laid to rest atop our throne Forever will we drift alone Though fire and flame won’t send us off But somber murmurs and harrowed cries, Veela of young and old will regale The tales, Of the Flower and the Pot.