1.
Fellowship--a mingling
Of individuals or things is chaos
The danger of factions
Is they're not for anything
They're just against
Other factions
2.
Weapons are cached in a thicket
He climbs the high hill in front of it
And for three years
Does not rise up
He climbs the wall
But cannot attack
The difficulties are too great
And bring him to his senses
3.
Men bound in the fellowship of war
Weep and lament
But afterwards
Over steins and tankards
They laugh at the perished
They've created
4.
The perished come back
To haunt them
The spooks they made
Return
And attach themselves
Like a conjoined twin
---o0o---
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