[A] Small Memorial Service (Stormwind, 7th of December, 21:00)

A poem for the children of our saviours.

Light bless our fathers, who had lost control
They claimed that this would be our finest hour.
Yet they were racing towards the final days
And took a risk, in a moment of power.

The Minister had announced a call to arms
For daring volunteers to proclaim eternal victory.
He rallied us to save the world, and join the cause
For brave heroes to avert the end of history.

You will close the portal, but be trapped inside
Thus he asked us to sacrifice ourselves.
Requested we lay down our lives for them,
Those to be spared the Iron Horde's hells.



We felt an impulse to prove our belief in the Light
And carried the strength of those we yearned to be.
I prayed for myself, did not dare think of the odds
And hoped we'd survive. I had faith in no one but me.

Everything was washed in a thin orange haze
The portal loomed. Fears and tension filled the air.
We would enter and close it, but dreaded what'd come next
I yearned to be free from that desolation and despair.



Even with the others I was too scared to close my eyes
The sun had fallen down. The portal outlined a fiery gleam.
We knew we faced the certainty of our destruction
And so we fell into it, like a feverish dream.

Our troops poured out and gathered on the other side
We closed the portal, hearts bleeding, but our faces stern.
Collectively we regretted, felt the anger and the pain
That we had come so far, but could never return.

None of us truly believed we'd be saved.
Yet we refused to fade away and crumble to dust.
And in the true human spirit, we settled in the bleak new world.
A heaven in hell, raised in the name of the Light we trust.