Across the land of Port
The frost-covered moors
Will hold their court
For aeons past and to come
A pallor heavily hangs
From horizon to horizon
And though the winds may change
The fog will always prevail
Twelve men take the path
In number, strong, in strength, weak
Advancing through the wrath
The fallen haunt their dreams
A copse of oaks grants reprieve
From storm and hail and cold
But as they’re reached, these trees
Vanish, for they never were
One year in the dark
Glaring moon in the firmament
Feeble light leaves no mark
Hopeless silence echoes loudly
A draft comes from the East
Alongside, a visitor draws near
Lillard is the name of this beast
The sign of the three, he bears
Joining the traveling procession
Marsh yields to prairie
Lillard tells of a mission
To win a series in the NBA Playoffs
Now the path is paved with brick
Orchards, ripe with fruits, nourish
Herb and shrub flourish thick
The travelers sing in praise:
“Port will know the wonders
Of winning a series in the playoffs
It is proclaimed in the sky’s thunders
Three truly is more than two”
“Lillard has redeemed, Lillard has sown
The seeds in our hearts, Lillard has shown
The three engulfs the two, this is known
Houston will fall, Lillard stands alone”