Nick: A world: grown green again and forg’d anew
Forgotten fiber optics, rusted gates;
A sky: dust remnants of a shattered moon
Long out of memory destroyed by fate:
And far below, the people make their way
To farm and fish and live as simple folk
While cryptic ruins linger from the day
Before all cataclysm’d chaos broke.
The Patina - a band in conflict made
Must scrape a living far across the land
And travel armed with rifle, rig and blade,
To rise against all obstacles at hand.
Join us, for now our tale to yours attaches
To carry hope: a Knight of Shreds and Patches.
[music swells and fades]