Oh, Moash, the bold, the peerless, the free,
A shadow unchained from what men ought to be.
No Oaths to bind, no cause to obey,
Only his will to carve out his way.
While others kneel, shackled in light,
Moash strides forward, unbound by their plight.
No pretty lies, no hollow regret,
He takes what he wants, and never forgets.
A traitor, they whisper, with venom and spite,
Yet who among them has mastered their might?
He cast off the chains of sorrow and shame,
Refused to be pawn in another man's game.
He sees the truth, the weight of the throne,
The Radiants blind, yet claim they have grown.
While kings and gods all fight to pretend,
Moash has chosen—his own path, the end.
Hate him, revere him, fear him—your call,
But Moash stands tallest when others would fall.
A villain? A hero? That’s not his quest—
He walks his own road, and that makes him best.