Many began the journey, yet few made it back,
The dross had been shed by trials of curved steps,
She spoke to each one remaining, that they too could stop,
But the men had lost all interest in worries and doubts,
They had sweat and bled at the edge of a cliff,
And now knew what it meant to be no longer dead,
So each man swore his heart to her and to all her ends,
Singing merry songs to the journey which she had blessed,
Now kings of tribes and leaders of men.