Demonlight is a poem, and is, therefore, given a certain poetic lisence (Word order, and Grammar can be bent slightly). I must ask you to please not edit this page. If you find something that you think must be changed, contact me on my talk page, and we can discuss it.
Nought is dark, yet nought is bright,
'Tis the time of demonlight.
Spirits dance, across the moon,
Casting Nirn in dusty gloom.
Dance of heavens, it is sometimes called,
A time of caution for mortal lords.
In fair Vivec, this time now reigns,
Scorching across sea's unridged plains.
In it the god, Vivec, does see,
An omen of which he must take heed.
For a time of war is soon to come,
Food will run short, and many will run.
A plague from Ayleid lands goes east,
Many will die, thousands not least.
An imperial reign, some will call it,
And some a curse, as they see fit.
Vvardenfell will be last to fall,
The ocean proving a mighty wall.
But finally they too, crushed will be,
Remains burnt and flung in the sea.
After the battle, all will be calm,
While poor among the dead do farm.
'Tis after the time of a great fight,
That is the time of demonlight.