Jelamel

The system came, the worlds redone

Twelve they rose, when the worlds were one

One through fate, Holy she become

One a tree, a seed of life who sprung

One of cycles, of lives to come

One malefic, with rage, desolation he brung

One of magic, and with indomitable will, death he shun

One created, made by those undone

One of titans, the stars he won

One of storms, a disaster from which you run

One of karma, of love, hate, and the bonds we’ve strung

One of war, slaughter, and battles unsung

One of time, endless possibilities therefrom

One of seals and space, sleeping, the wyrm of might

Twelve they’ve stayed, their eternal right

Twelve they’ve been since gods begun

Many have risen, “slay one,” they say

But all have fallen, on their fateful day

So twelve they stay, forever the first

Primordials they are. Primordials they stay.

—Jelamel, Poem by Jelamel