The Sentinel stands atop his post
He guards the valley low
His sword aside in a scabbard of frost
His helm and cloak are covered in snow
He guards the valley low
His beard a forest of great green pines
His helm and cloak are covered in snow
The Sentinel’s eyes stare ahead in straight lines
His beard a forest of great green pines
His expression is formed of stone
The Sentinel’s eyes stare ahead in straight lines
The Sentinel stands and guards alone
His expression is formed of stone
His sword aside in a scabbard of frost
The Sentinel stands and guards alone
The Sentinel stands atop his post