These Songs Don’t Exist - The Wheel Of Time [Bardic epic orchestral]

Bloody ashes, better ease the badger 🦡 The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. The Age of Legends, bright and high, Men and women, the Aes Sedai, They channel the source, Saidin and Saidar, A force of nature, the One Power. But darkness crept and evil poured The Dark One reached through the patterns bore, Shai’tan, the name that none dare speak, Brought chaos, terror and havok did wreak. Lews Therin, the Dragon named, A hero fierce, a soul untamed, He fought the shadow, sealed the dark, But madness claimed him, left its mark. The Dragon’s peace was bittersweet, The world lay shattered, in defeat, The Breaking came, the lands were torn, A time of ruin, woe, and scorn. Yet hope endures, the Prophecies say, The Dragon Reborn will come one day, To fight the shadow, light restore, And end the Wheel’s eternal war. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning. From humble roots in Two Rivers green, Five friends were chosen, fate unseen, Rand, Mat, and Perrin, Egwene, Nynaeve, Their journey long, with trials to grieve. Moiraine Sedai, with wisdom deep, Guided them through dangers steep, Aes Sedai, the Tower’s might, In battles dark and webs of light. Rand al’Thor, the Dragon reborn, Brings salvation, yet is scorned, He fought within, he fought without, With madness close, and constant doubt. Mat Cauthon, gambler, luck’s own son, With memories of battles won, A trickster’s heart, a general’s mind, Fox and snake, his fate was signed. Perrin Aybara, hulking size, wolf brother true and golden eyes, With axe and hammer and natures soul, In him the dreamers’ spirits call. Egwene al’Vere, a leader bold, The Amyrlin Seat, her power cold, With wisdom sharp and vision wide, She led the Tower, unified. Nynaeve al’Meera, healer strong, With braid pulled tight, righting wrong, Her temper fierce, her heart of gold, In healing’s art, her story told. The Forsaken rose, the shadow’s hand, To challenge light, to plague the land, Lanfear, Ishamael, and more, Their dark designs, the world’s uproar. The Last Battle, Tarmon Gai’don’s call, Where light and dark would rise and fall, At Shayol Ghul, the Dragon’s fight, To seal the Dark One, end the blight. With friends and foes on every side, The Pattern’s weave, the Wheel’s own guide, Rand faced the Dark One, truth to see, That choice, not power, sets us free. The Bore was sealed, the shadow bound, The Dragon’s peace, the land unbound, A new Age dawned, with hope anew, The Wheel of Time, its turning true. In tales of yore and songs of men, The Wheel will turn, and spin again, A story told, a hero’s climb, In every Age, for all of time.