Proctor's Ledge
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I can not speak for the words of the passing
For I shall not live upon nor die upon the acts of compassion
These transgressions are the pursuit of my calling
Bring fourth light
Bring fourth the magistrate
These are not the shades of malefaction
But a shining of those who'll die protected
Bring the serpents home
To the depths of Gallows Hill
These lands shall breath water
Freeze and grow ill
The bleeding moon shall guide the back to Nether's bend
From which the conferment peels the rind of oaths end
We shall then begin again
From the ashes of Proctor's Ledge