This is the last of a past that I cast
In the impure, and dusty-born ores
That shone once in mountains I climbed in a vast
Sprawling valley that called me to bore

And oh but the tools
And knick-knacky knockers
And jewel-set garlands I fashioned
Born from the shores of aglorian moors
Torn from the pages of passion

But tears ever salted
And cracks ever faulted
And soon in my trusty old vault
Lay tools for fools
And knockers for talkers
Crusted and rusty and dulled

And this is the last of a past that I cast
And amassed in a dastardly fashion
Good as it was
Torn out because
It’s time for a new page of passion