Deadly fires, mountains high
gives all the warning, from Ravens eye.
Deadly jest, Killer true, 
brings only death unto you.
Sleep again, only to wake.
To save the mortals, from their own fate.
All is done, and not yet true, 
for more must come 'fore Ravens through.
To himself, he comes again,
brings the light, from darkest sand.
Afloat aford, in darkest day,
the powers of yore, to light the way.
Golden candles, dead birds call,
Leads the way to springalds fall.
Gifted true, to bring him forth,
find the plant, in farthest north.
Key awaits his masters hand,
takes the five to darkest land.
There the five five tasks complete
to give them power, and lend the seat.
A fire of rain, the air to slow.
The open earth, and water flow.
Last the key must seal the gate.
To stop the death, and freeze your fate.
A hundred fold, in year and stone,
to find the key of silver tone.
And yet lost if let be
for one day more, so mote it be.