Their bellies taut with hunger,
The ravens called upon their King.
Their nests were filled with hatchlings,
Hungry young forever needing food.
Distraught, the ravens called upon their king.
The times are all too good,
Death's harvest runs too thin.
The kings of men are all at peace;
They wage no wars to feed our young.
Thus cried the ravens to their King.
The ravens were unhappy;
The Raven King was sad.
A King must do what he must do
To keep his people fed.
And so he took the Form of Man.
Unseen by hostile eyes
They rode along that path
Their hearts were filled with hopeful greed
And songs of war were on their lips.
On they rode and down they rode
From mountain heights into a land
Of crystal springs and verdant vales,
It was the land of men.
No force of soldiers barred their way
No hand was raised as they went by
Until they sacked a village
And raped the maidens found within.
Across that land, to and fro
The raven's martial company
Pillaged gentle folk and stole
Their honor, wealth, and lives.
It were noble deeds they did.
