Mercy mighty Kitiara,
I am yours just please let be in line of your service.
Oh milove you of your grace,
Your swiftness with a lightning touch on your escape,
By your hand,
Upon your command,
Your pain and misery shall be mine,
From my fingers to my toes shall be your rivers,
All of my senses yours to break and take.
I shall rule in behalf and in your stead.
Write me a song of the love not of
and of my undead emotions that runs where
my well that make my memory
like of my furnace here in my belly.
ALL HAIL DRAGONLANCE.
Mighty warriors of old.
Elmore, Parkinson, Valusek.
Might of your right to write.