Nasht
Latika holds his gracious heart;
the Shamans forged their bond.
Within their love, the flaws depart,
like ripples on a pond.
Though Divine eye has seen his fate,
it's he who knows his course.
His rise has come at rocket's rate;
perhaps he'll lead our force?
For now he is a master smith;
a Sonbae striking steel.
His friendships with the beasts of Myth
are altogether real.
As Sentinels we're joined in blood,
like sailors in a navy.
Oh humble Nasht, our fav'rite spud -
the 'tater to our gravy!