The Wise Man's Fear - The Forges of Ire

Your sons are dead
Killed by your own hand
Your daughters have fled
You drove them from the land

Shame to you, a plague on you
You’re nothing but bones and air
Shame to you, a plague on you
You stacked your fire with the bones of your dead

For a thousand years may your eyes never find rest
May the rest of your days be spent running from the past
May you wander the earth as a nomad
Nameless until the day you die

Wear a smile that’s held open by an iron hook
See shadows and traces of death everywhere you look
Feel exhaustion in your core that you cannot sleep out
And let shame, shame haunt you like the grave

For a thousand years may your feet never find rest
May your heart dismay and feel no peace as you grow older
May you spend your every waking moment
Looking over your shoulders

I swear no sleep until you are dead
No rest until I hold your head
No sleep until you are dead
No rest