The valley must describe a way to the end of the world,
This much is to know, this need in us exists;
Which weapon came about? Where rests the pain?
The valley and the gods well-explain our musts.
The musts so avid, mightily grow to encase us,
The stupor of the region is ruining, too rushed,
As we swing to the rhythm of a sound so great.
The valley of deeds can explore us as well,
Forests swindle the carriers, forming us with regret.
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