A butterfly from the northlands
Came down on tired wings
Bearing tidings of woe and pain.
Trolls from the eastern hills,
Surprised our host.
One hero held them off,
Rowan was his name.
Rowan cared for the Old Ones,
Kind and open-hearted,
Calming the fears of the younglings
As the host arrived.
With ring of steel and battle cry,
His men stood firm.
Ever nearer pressed the Host,
They breached the Outer Wall.
Though their Age has ended,
Signs of truth remain:
When you see a butterfly,
Rowan was his name.
Rowan was his name.
Rowan likes it a lot and is always playing the piano version. We'll see if he can stand my horrible singing! :-)