Lok’tar, Warchief, and welcome!
Behold the might of the Horde!

“What have you done?
Lok’tar ogar:
Victory or death?
Where here is the victory?

You were an Overlord, a leader,
Charged with our people’s fate.
This land was yours to preserve, defend,
Now it lays in ruin,
Poisoned with death, and war,
And shame.

You will not outlive the pain you’ve brought,
Or undo the death of dreams.
You will not silence the cries of innocents
That echo still over crackling flames.
No words of yours will heal the broken, burning land,
Or wash your hands of noble tauren blood.

I will not lift this shame from your shoulders.
But the shame is mine to bear as well.
My crime was the first:
I handed you the blade
That you would wield committing yours.

Am I a murderer?
I wasn’t before today.

You knew this day was soon at hand.
I cannot undo your crimes,
But I will not continue mine.
No mounting more upon our grief.
By my right as Warchief,
I relieve you of command.”

Forgive me, Greatmother.
Forgive me, father.
Forgive me, Thrall.
I stand relieved.

[Header image provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife, used here with permission and many thanks.]